Fourth of July FivePack
by Satan's.Little.Ficsters
Summary: Five one-shots with an eye toward celebrating the birth of our nation. You might celebrate with with sparklers and spareribs; we celebrate with sex and love. ciaobella27, littlesecret84, spanglemaker9, the-glory-days, and WriteOnTime
1. Bella and Jane have sex

**You guys can thank (or yell at) Writeontime for this. She's the one who suggested I write a Jane/Bella outtake from BS for this occasion. She's awesome.**

**I dedicate this to a great American, spargelkun, who once asked, "What is more patriotic than girlsex?" **

**I don't own Twilight. Stephenie def doesn't want to own this. ~ ~ littlesecret84  
**

_Forks, Washington_

_July 5, 2012_

"I mean, seriously, Jane, you need to wear sunblock. I know you hate looking yellow all the time, but it's just a bad idea to expose yourself to the sun the way that you do. As long as you have some color on your face, you're good!"

"Just shut _up_," is Jane's only response. She closes her eyes and ignores my advice until I notice how pink her shoulders and the tip of her nose look twenty minutes later. I take my bottle of sunblock and pour some into my palm, before walking over to her and applying it to her shoulders. She protests by trying to wiggle away from me, but I straddle her and cover every inch of her exposed skin with the thick, white cream she hates so much.

"You're so stubborn. You're just jealous because you burn and don't tan," she tells me.

"You look like an old lady when you tan. Wrinkles, leathery skin. You're not getting any younger. Skin is the most important thing."

"Is it? I don't remember the last time someone complimented me on my skin," she says.

"I do."

Edward talked about my skin all the time. When we were sitting around, kissing, touching. When we were having sex. He'd mumbled things about my body, my face, my skin, all the time while we were rolling around, quietly doing dirty things. Except they were never really dirty, because things didn't feel dirty with him. They just felt… ugh. I'm not going there. No Edward. Enough Edward. Why am I thinking about him again? _Oh_. Skin. Someone needs to compliment Jane's skin. It's soft and pretty.

"For instance, look at my flawless skin. Pretty, no?" I ask, getting up and moving back to my chair. "You end up buying all these products to cover up blemishes. I take precautions and don't get blemishes. I save money, and look awesome."

"Bella… shut up. Really, it's just one of those days. I think we're going to play the quiet game."

"What game is that?" I ask.

"You know, the one we play all the time. No one talks, and the first person who says anything loses. You know it well—you lose every single time."

"Oooh, that game. I'm pretty sure it has another name."

"Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. My _head_."

"Stop drinking."

"Stop talking," she whines.

"I'm bored."

"Find a boy."

Except I don't want to find a boy. I want Jane to turn around and me kiss again, like she did last night. And the only reason why I'm talking so much is because I don't like the silence between us right now. What if she regrets what happened? What if she's mad at me? What if she thinks I sucked? She can't think that. Oh my God. So I have to keep talking to make sure everything is cool. I want things to be cool. And I wouldn't mind repeating last night. Just one more time. Because while Jane had been really, really drunk and probably doesn't remember much, I was pretty sober and remember everything. And I can't even try to pretend… and thinking about it makes my face hot… and yeah, it was the most fun I've had in years.

_July 4, 2012_

"You're sooo wasted," Jane tells me, slurring her words.

"I'm sooo sober. You're the one who's wasted. I think we should leave before your mom sees you like this."

"No! I don't care if she sees me. I'm fine!"

"Janey, you can barely stand up. Let's get out of here. If you want, we can take a few bottles of… whatever's left and drink them in back of the truck."

"Let's drink them here."

"It's your mom's picnic, we're done drinking here! You want it to be like last time?" I ask her.

She shakes her head.

"Good. So let's go. Pick a bottle. Hurry up. And for fuck's sake, every time you scratch that mosquito bite above your boob, you expose yourself. Nice tits, but there are children present."

"Do you like my tits, Bella?" Jane asks, before erupting into giggles.

I roll my eyes, knowing she won't notice anything I do at this point. "Yes, they're awesome."

"I like yours."

"You haven't seen them in years, they're not as cute anymore." I sigh.

"That's what you think…"

Oh God. She's such a mess. I manage to half-carry Jane, who's sort of carrying a bottle of gin (she's so going to drop it any second now), all the way to my truck unnoticed. I take the bottle away from her because who just drinks gin like that? And she really doesn't need anything else. She'll pass out on our way home, and I'll get my dad to help me take her up to my room.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you really make out with that redhead at that Halloween party you went to last year with Riley?" Jane asks me.

"Um, yeah," I reply, wondering why she's bringing this up now. "Why?"

"Was she cute?"

"I guess? I don't remember. I was wasted. Riley took pictures. I thought I showed them to you."

"Yeah, she was alright."

"You're so weird."

"I am," she agrees.

"Jane?"

"Yeah?"

"When was the last time you had sex?" I ask her. She'll probably give me a more honest answer while she's drunk than when she's sober.

"A month ago," she mumbles.

"What?"

"A month ago," she repeats.

"With? How did you keep this from me? Was he hot? How big was his dick?"

"Ewwwwwww."

"Sorry." I smile at Jane, who looks like she's about to throw up. "Dude, tell me to stop before you puke. I don't want to smell that in here for weeks."

"I'm not gonna throw up. Although I should. I hate boys. I hate their penises. Gross."

"Um, okay…"

"Girls are pretty," Jane says, with a silly grin on her face.

"What about Sam?" I ask.

"What about him?"

"You dated him!" I cry out.

"So?"

"So, when did you decide that you're a lesbian?"

"I'm not…"

"Uh… Jane, dude, you just said you hate dicks and followed that up with 'girls are pretty'—I'm pretty sure you're into vag."

"Does that make a difference to… forget it. I'm sleepy, stop talking," she tells me.

"Janey, we're having this discussion!"

"Your voice is annoying."

"Bitch. Oh my God! Were you totally into it when we made out that one time freshman year?"

"You're a sloppy kisser," she informs me.

"I focus on more important things," I explain.

"Sick."

"Delicious."

"You are so disgusting."

"Admit it, you want me." I pinch her cheek and wink at her. Her face is on fire.

"Oh shit! The fireworks started! Stop the car, I wanna watch!"

I pull over and turn off the engine. We climb into the back of the truck and spread out the gross blanket that has been sitting here all summer. Like so many times before, we lie down beside each other, shoulder to shoulder, and watch the fireworks.

"Yay! Independence is awesome!" Jane sings.

"You're such a ridiculous drunk."

"British people suck. No taxation… I don't know, what happens next?"

"Oh, Jesus."

"I take that back. I love the Brits," Jane says. "America would be so much more awesome as a gigantic colony or something. We'd have a queen."

"Shut up, Jane. Just watch the fireworks."

"Do you see fireworks, or whatever, when you kiss people?" Jane asks me.

"Wow, could you be any cornier? No."

"Never?" she wants to know.

"No," I tell her. "That's just lame. I just get horny."

"Were you horny when we made out freshman year?"

"I don't remember—I barely remember kissing you."

"It was nice," Jane tells me.

"Pish. Sure it was. You took advantage of me in my drunken state."

"Your lips are always so red. I remember once, you and Edward picked me up in his stupid car, and your lips were a dark red, all puffy, because he always ate your face. I wanted to lick them."

"Um… okay."

"Shit, the fireworks are so loud. I feel them in my tummy," Jane says. She starts to giggle and I can't help it—I'm giggling with her. She's right. They're so loud that I feel them in my tummy. They're also super lame. Cheap ass fireworks in Forks.

"Man, these fireworks suck."

Jane nods, agreeing with me. "Totally."

"Yeah."

"I hate this holiday," Jane announces.

"Me too!" I exclaim. "Like, what's the point? I get it. It's awesome. We're awesome. Yay, America! I just don't care."

"Me neither. Let's move to France—it's cooler there. I bet we'd have more fun celebrating their independence."

"Totally."

"Wow, I'm surprised we're not stoned. We sound like we do when we're stoned."

"I wish we were." I sigh. "That would be something to celebrate."

"I hate hot dogs, too."

"You hate everything that resembles a penis," I observe.

"Yeah."

"Bet you love pie." I crack myself up.

"Ha. Ha."

"Seriously, have you ever… you know."

"Probably," Jane replies.

"Is it totally weird the first time? Different?" I ask. I might as well ask. You never know when such knowledge will come in handy.

"Weird…no. Different? Yeah, definitely."

"Cool. I think I'd be an awesome lesbian," I tell Jane.

"You'd be a terrible lesbian! You like men."

"Yeah, that's true, but I love breasts."

"You always did stare at mine for too long back when we had gym together."

"They were nice!"

"Were?" Jane frowns.

"They still are."

The fireworks are still happening. What the fuck is up with that? Why not make the whole thing shorter, but spend more on quality shit? Stupid Forks. I sit up on my elbows and turn to Jane. I can't help but notice how her boobs are almost completely exposed. If I hook a finger into her top right now and pull it down, I'll see everything. I feel my finger moving towards her, and I stop it before this actually happens. What the…

"Hey, I'm curious," I blurt out, before I can stop myself. "Will you show me your… breasts? Ew, that doesn't sound hot. Tits? Better? Gross."

Jane looks at me like she's suspicious that something's up. I open my eyes wide, knowing she won't be able to resist the look I'm giving her. I'm innocent, Jane. Don't worry.

"Why?" she asks.

I don't know, Jane. Don't ask stupid questions. I'm already questioning my desire to see you naked right now. Either show me, or mock me and shut up. I don't care either way. Just don't drag this out. It's bad enough that I'm sitting here almost desperate to see you naked. I don't know what's come over me. It just happens sometimes. And I'm not even going to pretend that I haven't watched girls going at it in porn. I have. Sometimes I'm in the mood to watch nothing but girls going at it. I know where to go for the best stuff. And I'm also not going to pretend that I'm not feeling extremely horny right now. Like, my nipples… ugh. What's wrong with me? This is Jane. She's like a sister to me. I shouldn't be this turned on by her right now, because she's family. It's like wanting to do your own brother, if your brother had nice tits and pretty, long blonde hair. Gross. Gross. Gross. She's still looking at me like that. I have to say something, or laugh and pretend I was kidding.

"Because your girl love is rubbing off on me and I want to see boobs."

"You can't just _look_," Jane tells me.

"Why not? I don't know if I want to do anything just yet. I want to get a better idea of what you're offering before I decide whether or not I want to test out the product."

"That's not fair. I won't just expose myself to you. You have to do it too!" Jane says.

"Fine. Half this town has seen them anyway." I sigh.

"You wish. You're not nearly as slutty as you want to be."

I nod, frowning, because it's true. "Fine. Here." And I yank off my tank.

"Not fair! You're wearing a bra!"

"Ugh, Jane, I'm sorry I'm classier than you are and wear bras when I'm out in public."

"Whatever, you're the one who told me I didn't need one in this dress," she reminds me, pulling down the top of her dress until I can see her nipples and they're pretty hard and big, unlike mine, and I want to touch them and see if they'll get stiffer, or stay the same.

"Cool."

"You like?" Jane asks.

"I'm gonna touch them," I let her know.

"Finally," I think I hear her say.

Shit. Her skin is… soft. And her nipples… don't feel like mine. They're way bigger, like I said, and they feel weird between my fingers. And yeah, they do change a little. I like them better now. Weird. Weird. Does that make sense? No. I like how they feel. I pinch. She jumps. I reach out and touch her other nipple, and I just play around. She breathes different. Her eyes close a little, open again. The same thing happens to her mouth. I move closer. I take her breasts in my hands. I do things boys do to me all the time. She likes it. I kiss her. She tastes like expensive things her mom keeps in their liquor cabinet. Her tongue is in my mouth. Weird. Shit. Nice. She's touching me. Now she's kissing my neck. Holy… Ouch. I like bites, but that was intense. I'm being loud. Do I like this that much? Am I enjoying this enough to be moaning like I…just…can't…get…enough. Oh! Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. I love it when my nipples find their way into mouths. And this… and this? It feels so, so good. Jane it a biter. She nibbles. She sucks and sucks and sucks. And I love it, because my fingers are in her hair and I'm holding her to me like if she stops sucking and licking like she is, I'll… I don't know, die?

"Shit. This is good. Oh. My. God. Jane. Jane. _Jane._"

And I guess what I just said means "touch my vagina" because Jane's fingers have moved under my skirt, and under my thong, and shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. My poor nipple is mouthless now, because Jane is commenting on the state of things down there. And yeah, I'm wet. And yeah, I want her to touch me and I want to come and I want to rub up against something and come again and I want that something to be her.

"Kiss me" are the last words I say before I'm squealing and whimpering and trying not to scream. Good. So good. I love her breasts against mine. I love her lips. I love her hands. Her fingers. Her _fingers. _And my fingers. They're in her hand. She moves them down. Down. Not on me. On her. Shit. I've never done this before. I've done it to myself, but that's my own vagina. This is hers. And _oh_—she's really tight. I mean, guys tell me I am, but that's just because they love hearing themselves say that, maybe it enhances the experience for them. Who knows? It mostly annoys me. But Jane? She _is, _and I give up on two fingers and work with one, because it's less annoying. And she seems to like it. 'Faster' 'please' 'yes' are the words I hear from her. Nothing else. So yeah, I try to go faster and not be too stupid and clumsy with the whole thing. And I try my best to make her say 'yes' again, and she does, and then we're kissing and kissing and moving, and I think I'm humping her thigh at one point. I don't even know what's going on, but I'm on my back and she's staring at me. She's staring between my legs. And shit, when was the last time I waxed or trimmed or anything? Who knows. It's been a while. She doesn't care. She's… licking me. Like, straight up licking me. And people do this differently. And I love it all. But I love this the most. And I think she steadies my hips with a hand because I'm moving all over the place. And I'm touching myself, playing with my nipples, and she looks up and her eyes are big and wide and she smiles and I smile and this is the best night ever in a long, long time.

Because I just had two orgasms, and I gave one. I should give another one, but I don't know how I feel about reciprocating, and she's covering herself now, and I'm just sitting here half naked, and it's sort of awkward.

"Jane, I—"

_Ugh. _Before I can finish my thought, she's scrambling over to the side of the truck and _gross_. Yeah. She's puking. This what my vagina did to her. Great. I feel awesome. She needs help. I crawl over to her and hold back her hair. I think I want to lean over and kiss her neck, but she's puking, so… gross. I don't do it. But maybe I can later. Or not at all. This was so weird. What's wrong with me? I wait until she's done, and help her back into the cab of my truck. She passes out. My dad and I manage to get her into bed. I wonder if he knows. Hah. Yeah. Sure. I stare at her for a while and think about every single thing that happened because I know I'll probably avoid thinking about it ever again. I quietly touch myself. I feel better. I close my eyes. What a day.

_July 5, 2012_

"Jane?"

"Bella, _what?_"

"You went down on me last night."

"Ughhhhhh."

"So you remember…"

"Of course I remember," Jane snaps.

"Okay, I just wanted to make sure…"

She flips over onto her stomach and doesn't say anything.

"Jane?"

"Yes?" She sounds scary.

"Was it that bad?" I ask her. "Did I disgust you?"

"It's not always about you, Bella…"

"But my… my…"

"…or about your vagina."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," she insists.

"Okay. Yeah. I thought so. Everyone likes doing that to me."

"Oh, Jesus," Jane mutters.

"Also, now we don't have to hate that holiday anymore," I point out.

"Good point."

"Yay!"

"Bella, please, just shut up."

"Okay."

**Yeah, um. Eat good shit. Enjoy the fireworks. Kiss your best friend. You know you want to.**

**xo**


	2. Crossette and Chrysanthemum

Happy Fourth of July, fellow American-types! In this one-shot, uptight Edward gains a bit of unexpected independence from his determination to keep pretty Bella out of his well-ordered life.

Be safe, and thank you all for all of your amazing support! Love, as always, to my fellow Ficsters, who make being here and writing so much fun.

xoxo Nina (WriteOnTime)

# # #

Crossette and Chrysanthemum

She came to him on a Monday, and he said, "I'm not making you any promises, Bella. I don't make promises about a thing like this."

"I know," she nodded. "I haven't asked you for any, have I, Edward?" This last was added with an arch look, one meant to remind him that she was nobody's doormat. He didn't have to know that the insinuation stung in any way.

He had to admit that it was a fair thing to say. She hadn't asked, but he still felt the need to make himself clear, just in case she was even _thinking_ about asking. He didn't want the fact that he found her so pretty to tempt him into lowering his guard. She was dangerous for him.

"All right, then. Just so we're clear. No promises. I'll go, and I'll stand around, but you know I'm not a 'small talk' kind of person." He scratched his forehead. Was this enough of a warning? Probably not, so he continued, and clarified. "Also, no couple-y stuff. No...kissing, or, or hugging, or... anything like that. You can hold my arm a few times, but only if you need to."

Bella calmly nodded again. This was no surprise, after all, because she knew he was an uncomfortable sort of person; a solitary sort of man, and one who'd managed to completely divorce his brain from the rest of his body without benefit of traditional surgery. If she hadn't been absolutely dead-desperate, she'd never have had the courage to approach him, but the Newtons were fairly clear that this was meant to be a "couples" affair as everyone else in the office had significant others, and Jacob, the only other person she could have asked, would have read far too much into the situation. She was sure that she could harness the persistent attraction she felt for Edward and just coast through the several hours of the party without worrying about the awkwardness of it all. He didn't want her. She knew this - she'd accepted it months ago, her only solace stemming from the fact that he didn't appear to want anyone else, either. He'd been in the office suite next door for almost a year, keeping himself largely to himself. So, she dreamed her little dreams about him, but reminded herself that they would never come true.

"At what time are we expected to arrive?"

She told him the party began at three o'clock, and that, since this was an important work function masquerading as a casual holiday get-together, she wanted to arrive in good time.

"We'll leave between two-thirty and two-thirty-five, then," he stated, and it took everything in her to keep from rolling her eyes to the ceiling. "I wish someone could explain to me why people feel the need to mark the anniversary of our nation's birth by eating grilled meat and lumpy potato salad in an outdoor setting."

"It's fun, Edward," she answered, even though she was pretty sure that the question was a rhetorical one.

"Fun? Fun? What's fun about it? There are flies, and allergens, and very few comfortable places to sit. The food is never very good, and it's always a little too cold by the time you get to eat it. Also, paper plates, and plastic cutlery that snaps in half if you dare ask it to do the job it's meant to do." He was being serious.

"You really don't get out much, do you?"

He sniffed and put up his chin. "There's nothing out there for me. I have my books, and my music. 'Out there' is a confusing mess. I'm very happy being alone."

"And a rock feels no pain; and an island never cries," she muttered very quietly, wondering whether Simon and Garfunkel had maybe met Edward's father or something. This mania for solitude had to come from somewhere, and what a pity it was, because when he chose to, Edward had a great sense of humor. God only knew he was attractive enough, too. Out loud, she said "All right, Edward. I'll do my best not to bother you too much, and I honestly appreciate your agreeing to come with me for this. You know how Mr. Newton is when it comes to employee bonding; he sponsors rolling chair races down the hallway every Friday, for Pete's sake. And Mrs. Newton just loves to throw a party."

Edward's eyes lost their focus for a moment. 'Bother me too much?' he thought. She already bothered him too much. It was such an effort not to smile at her all the time. He actually laughed - more than once, and not out of any desire to be polite - when she was around. He looked forward to seeing her every day, even if it was just a few pathetic moments while they waited for the elevator together, or when they bumped into each other at the small coffee place downstairs. Their conversations were never about inane things like television shows or the weather; instead, she'd mention an interesting article she'd read that morning about plans for the international space station, and he'd counter with the information that Richard Strauss' "Also Sprach Zarathustra" was much more than a score for Kubrick's _"2001: A Space Odyssey"_, as it was actually based on the hopelessly-complicated writings of Friedrich Nietzsche. Nobody knew that, but he did, and he shared it with her.

But getting any closer to a nice girl like Bella meant possibly caring about her, and possibly caring about her meant possibly _really_ caring about her, and possibly _really_ caring about her meant possibly getting really, really, _really_ hurt, not to mention throwing everything in his life into hopeless disorder. The inherent uncertainty and attendant potential disaster of the thing made the wisest course of action to steer well clear of her. But she'd asked him for this favor, and she'd seemed so comfortable with the fact that he was only saying "yes" with severe restrictions. Surely that would be all right, he told himself. Surely he could do this favor for a nice person who'd been nice to him and not risk too much. They'd go, and he would stand a respectful three feet away from her, and then they'd leave, and continue on as they had been. Polite but distant acquaintances. Safely distant from the pretty girl with the understanding, happy brown eyes, and the creamy, smooth skin that...well. Yes. Enough of that.

True to his word, he collected her from her house at precisely two-thirty that Saturday afternoon, hoping that she would value promptness as much as he did. He was relieved to see that she was already on her porch and anticipating his arrival, but as she stood to make her way over to his car, he was considerably less relieved to note that she was wearing the loveliest summer dress in the loveliest shade of blue he'd ever seen, her long brown hair loosely tied with a ribbon of the same color, exposing the mysterious and delicate perfection of her slender neck to his suddenly eager eyes.

"Behave," he ordered his eyes, along with various other parts of himself.

"Hello, Edward," Bella smiled, and thanked him as he handed her into the passenger seat of his unnaturally-spotless car. He hurried over to the driver's side, lowered himself with remarkable grace into the seat, and engaged the correct gear to get them moving along to the party.

There was silence for a moment or two. "You look very nice," she finally said. And he did, in his clean, white shirt with carefully rolled-up sleeves, and his pressed, gray chinos. He'd chosen to advertise the casual intention of his wardrobe choices by foregoing a tie and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt. It would have been too much to call the look "relaxed" for most men, but on Edward, it was almost revolutionary.

His cheeks colored faintly. "Thank you, Bella. You look - really very nice, too. Really. Very nice." _'Idiotic,'_ his inner voice ruled, then added _'Nice is a completely inadequate word for the way she looks today_. _You're such a tool, Edward._'

When they arrived at the party, a pimply youth in a red vest and black pants indicated where they should park their car. "This is a pretty big party," Edward commented, surprised.

"Yes it is," she agreed. "Mr. Newton invites a lot of the firm's clients. This is the biggest party he throws all year, because he doesn't want to compete with the Christmas parties all the other firms host. The fireworks show he ends the party with alone probably costs him somewhere in the neighborhood of $10,000."

"That's a lot of money for some lights and noise."

"They're so beautiful, though. It's my favorite part of the night," she murmured, and he felt guilty for scoffing at something that clearly brought her joy.

They entered a small marquee, under which sat a woman behind a table full of nametags. They gave their names and were each handed a badge to pin onto their chests. As they turned to leave, the woman called them back. "Wait," she said with a smile. "Not so fast. I still haven't given you your animals."

"You hand out pets at this party?" Edward wasn't at all sure he wanted a pet foisted upon him. Animals required care and feeding, and while he liked them, he would really have preferred to have some choice in the matter.

"Oh, no - that would be pretty silly," the woman laughed. "I put a sticker on your forehead that everyone but you can see. Over the course of the party, you have to ask people questions about what sort of animal you are, and when you guess correctly, you can remove the sticker. You can't ask them to make any animal noises to make it easier. It's a conversation-starter."

"Yes, it is. A ridiculous conversation-starter," Edward frowned, but he'd made a commitment to attend this party for Bella's sake, and so he submitted when the woman affixed a sticker to his forehead. She then put a sticker on Bella's forehead, and the two of them were finally free to enter the party.

"What does my sticker say?" Edward wanted to know.

"I'm not allowed to tell you that," Bella answered. "The rules clearly state that you're supposed to ask questions and guess." She tried not to smile, because she could see that not knowing was driving him crazy.

"A lemur? A hippo? A cuttlefish?" He fired random species at her, making her giggle.

"Try asking me a question about what you are," she suggested.

He thought for a moment. "Do I live in the air, under the water, or on land?"

Bella's brow furrowed, slightly wrinkling her sticker. "Two of the three. My turn: am I ferocious, or tame?"

Edward considered her sticker. "I'd say you were tame, but I'll bet you could give a person a hell of a bite if you chose to."

"This is clearly not getting us anywhere. Let's find the Newtons so that they can see I'm here."

Bella made the rounds, and Edward stayed near her side, reminding himself that a yard of distance between them was appropriate. He kept forgetting this, though, and found himself inching closer and closer as the time wore on, only to realize what was happening and retreat once more.

"Hello, gorgeous," a man's voice called from behind where they stood, talking to the Cheneys. Bella's head turned in the direction of the new voice, and Edward watched as her eyes lit up and her mouth formed what he could only fairly call the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen.

"Hey!" she cried, and promptly threw herself at the man. "I thought you were stuck in Spokane for another week!"

The man grinned fondly at her. "Nope. They sprang me yesterday, so I hauled ass back up here in record time. Looks as though I got here not a moment too soon, either, because this is one of the dullest shindigs in the history of shindigs."

She suddenly realized that she'd turned her back on Edward, and didn't want to be rude. "Oh - Edward, meet Emmett, my favorite client of all time. Emmett, this is Edward: he works in the office next to ours."

Emmett stuck out his hand for Edward to shake. "Hey, you need to cheer up a little. You're with the second-prettiest girl at this party," he grinned, making the sticker that read "Grizzly Bear" dance around on his forehead.

"Only second-prettiest?" Bella offered Emmett a playful pout. Edward was instantly offended by the comment, as it was quite clear that Bella had no competition here, or indeed, anywhere else he could think of.

"Heh. You know I brought Rose with me," Emmett said. An attractive blonde woman strolled up to join Emmett, sliding her hand into his and smiling at Bella.

"Hey, Bella," the blonde woman greeted her. "Who's your date? He looks like a stiff," she added, in the kind of whisper she obviously meant for Edward to overhear. The blonde woman was not going to be a favorite of his, he could tell. Moreover, he still thought Bella's sweet, fresh beauty trumped the woman's flashier style.

Bella winced a little, embarrassed that the woman had said something unkind about Edward. "Play nice, Rose," she begged her. "This is Edward; he works in the office next to ours, and he's terrific."

_'Take that, you shrew,'_ Edward thought, and before he could control himself, he found that he'd looped his arm around Bella's waist. _'Oh my God, I'm touching her, I'm touching her,'_ was his next thought. His fingers found a happy home in the warm curve above her hips, and they weren't planning on leaving anytime soon. Bella had stiffened for a moment when his arm first landed, but she quickly relaxed and turned slightly in toward him, placing her arm lightly on Edward's back, her forearm resting along his spine and the palm of her hand between his shoulder blades. _'Oh my God, she's touching me, too,' _ was the thought which rounded out this unscheduled series of events. He didn't want her to stop, either.

Emmett's natural talent with people led him to conclude that it was time to create a little space between the genders. He liked Bella very much, and he loved his Rose more than anyone on earth; he didn't want to see them fall out with each other. Turning to Edward, he said, "Hey - let's let these two catch up properly while we case the joint." He grabbed Edward by the elbow and compelled him to detach himself from Bella, something which did not endear Emmett to him in the slightest. Edward tried to protest, but Emmett wouldn't let go, and then Rose was linking her arm through Bella's and hauling her off across the lawn, so his reason for standing there no longer really existed.

While Rose and Bella chatted, Emmett dragged Edward over to a small table, around which were gathered a group of the men who'd previously been milling about the party. Their spouses and significant others were nowhere in sight. In the center of the table stood a very large orange thermos. Emmett grabbed two plastic cups from a stack next to the thermos, putting a small amount in one cup and almost filling the other with whatever that thermos contained. He passed the almost-full cup to Edward.

"Drink some," Emmett commanded.

"I'm lactose-intolerant," Edward blurted, even though the liquid was transparent and purple, and he sounded like a moron.

"I'm bullshit-intolerant," Emmett promptly replied. "Drink up, Ed. You need some help removing the stick from your ass, and this is the kind of party where wine spritzers pass for hard stuff."

The other men around the table watched him, waiting to see what he'd do. Edward had never been particularly affected by peer pressure before, but the fact that Emmett clearly knew Bella well and might report back to her that he was a gutless wonder was enough to make him cave. He raised the cup to his lips and downed the purple mystery in six huge gulps.

"Holy shit, Ed," Emmett whistled. "Jesus Punch is about fifty-percent Everclear - American corn for an American holiday. Are you insane?"

Edward's eyes were watering, and his throat was on fire. "I didn't know," he choked. "You said 'drink', so I did."

"Someone hands you a cup of purple shit, and you just drink it without asking any questions? You look like such a square, but really, you're a wild man." He turned to the others gathered around the table. "Gentlemen, we have a new leader. Say 'hi' to Edward. Wait -" Emmett stopped to consider for a moment. "That name doesn't work for you. Let's just call you 'Freefall', because you totally operate without a net. How much do you weigh?"

"About a hundred-eighty pounds," Edward answered. His voice sounded strange to him: strange, and far away.

"Well, that's good news. You're probably not going to die, at any rate. But you might want to sit down before you fall down."

This was extremely timely advice, because Edward suddenly felt the lawn buckle slightly under his feet, rolling like a neatly-trimmed grass ocean. He collapsed into one of the chairs next to the table, his head fuzzy and his vision slightly blurred. The men around the table quickly hid the orange Thermos and the cups in the hydrangea bushes behind them, and pretended to be responsible adults once more. One by one, they drifted back to the party, swallowing breath mints and talking in low voices as they went. Emmett patted him on the shoulder and asked him if he was going to be okay, then promised to keep an eye on him from a distance before scooting off to find Rose.

Edward had managed to go his entire life up to this point without getting horribly drunk, but clearly, the streak stopped here, because he was forced to admit that he was about as drunk as a still-conscious person could get. The word "toes" became completely fascinating to him for no discernable reason, and he found himself composing a little song which included that word as the sole lyric. "Toes, toes, toes," Edward hummed softly, half-closing his eyes and smiling, because the song sounded so good to him, and he couldn't wait to get home to put the composition on paper.

Bella finally located him some time later, still sprawled in the chair and humming to himself. "Edward, there you are," she sighed. "I'm so sorry, but Mrs. Newton insists that we play some lawn games. You probably don't want to, but it would look strange to refuse her." He looked so calm and relaxed, and she wondered whether this was because he'd managed to find a corner away from any living thing. She wished that he'd go back to holding her by the waist, because his arm had felt so warm and nice around her, and allowed her to briefly fantasize that he was as marginally attracted to her as she was overwhelmingly attracted to him.

Edward blinked very slowly, then rolled his eyes up to study Bella's face. "Hullo," he smiled, although only half of his mouth cooperated. "God, you're so, so pretty. Pretty. Pretty little lamb. Hey! Mary had a whole bunch of you. Your fleece is white as snoooow."

"Oh!" Bella remembered that she hadn't yet taken her animal sticker off of her forehead. "Thanks for reminding me - I must look ridiculous." She blushed and peeled the sticker from her face, trying not to think too much about the fact that he'd just called her "pretty", because lambs were pretty, and she was sure that's what he was talking about. "You can probably take your sticker off too, Edward. You know what you are by now, right?"

"Hmmmm...huh? What? What'm I?" He knew he was drunk. Very drunk. She didn't hate him, did she? Was she going to tell him he was disgusting, and that she was disappointed and embarrassed by him? "I'm sorry," he said, suddenly very mournful. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do it. Beautiful Bella, please don't be mad."

"Beautiful?" The word escaped her before she could control herself. Lambs might be pretty, but they weren't beautiful. He was acting so strangely. "Do you know what you are?"

"Oh, the sticker thing!" Edward's head cleared briefly, and he remembered that he had something written on his face. "I dunno. Tell me, okay? Just say it."

"Vampire bat," she answered.

For some reason, this made Edward laugh so hard that he almost fell out of his chair. "Ugh. Funny," he groaned, doubling over and grabbing his stomach. Then he stretched out his hand to her. "Oh, please, Beautiful Bella, can you help me up?"

She shook her head at him, but grabbed his hand and tried to hoist him into a standing position. He rose from the chair, then sort of just kept his forward-momentum going and leaned into her, grabbing her around her waist with his other hand and holding onto her for dear life. "Hey," he murmured, looking down into her eyes. "I like it here. You make my hands happy hands."

"Why do you smell like grape juice? Edward, what's going on?" As amazing as it felt to be this close to him, Bella was really starting to worry, because nothing he'd done or said since she found him in this corner was at all normal behavior for him. His eyes were glittering so strangely.

"Ummmm...shush. There was a thermos. It was orange. Emmett said 'drink', and I did, because there's a stick up my ass, he said. Ooops. Sorry. I said 'ass' to you," he apologized, remembering vaguely that "ass" was not a very nice word to be saying in front of a girl. Bella had a really great one, though. Had he just told her she had a great ass? That was hardly his fault. Wait - he was telling her about the thermos and Emmett. "And so, yeah, it was corn, but purple corn, and now I'm pretty sure I'm drunk. Emmett said I probably wouldn't die, though. Oh - also? I lied. I said I was allergic to milk. I'm really not. I love ice cream so much." He burped, and it was unexpected, but even drunk, he had the presence of mind to shift his face away from hers so that he didn't burp all over her.

Edward's confession made Bella erupt into surprised laughter, but then she narrowed her eyes and scanned the lawn. "Emmett's a dead man when I find him. Dead man walking."

"No, he's great!" Edward protested, almost certain that Emmett was only trying to be a good friend to him and help him out of an awkward social situation. "That blonde girl doesn't like me, though. What'd she say about me?"

"She said she thought you were very good-looking," Bella told him. Rose had also said that he was a total asshole loser if he didn't grab on to Bella and never let her go, but Bella didn't think she could repeat that part. Even drunk, Edward might remember it later.

"Oh," he said thoughtfully. "Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Think I'm good? Looking? Good-looking?"

Bella couldn't look him in the eye, but she also didn't want to lie to him. "Yes, Edward. You're very good-looking. You must know that about yourself, though."

His hands gripped her tighter. "Hmmm," he hummed. It certainly wasn't the first time he'd heard that he was attractive, but it was the first time he'd ever actually desperately wanted to hear it from someone.

"Listen, I'm really, really sorry about this, but we're going to have to at least try to play one or two of these games, or I'll never hear the end of it. Should I tell them you're not feeling well?"

Acting on a sudden impulse, Edward leaned down and gently bit the side of Bella's neck, making her gasp and tingle. "Vampire bat," he grinned in explanation. "Let's go play something. I want to play with you."

Bella was afraid that she was going to have to drag an unstable Edward over to the game area, but despite his drunken state, he had remarkable balance. Rather than leaning heavily on her, he kind of half-curled himself around her and hug-walked over there with relative ease.

"You two look cozy," Rose remarked when they arrived at her side.

"Emmett got Edward drunk. I'm going to kill him when I see him," Bella answered, even though she was secretly more than a little thrilled by the results. Drunk Edward was pretty awesome. He called her "Beautiful", and he hugged her.

Mrs. Newton was handing out lengths of wide sateen ribbon. Rose explained that they'd arrived just in time for the three-legged race, and right away, Bella knew that this would only end in disaster, with bruises and broken bones and an anti-climactic trip to the emergency room. She tried to convince Edward to sit out the race, but he flatly refused. He was a pretty fast runner, and the race meant he could keep his arms around Bella, and that was all he really cared about anyway at the moment.

Bella's left leg was tied to Edward's right leg, and they hobbled over to the starting line. When Bella spied Emmett, she drew her lips together and squinted at him. He held his hands up in defense. "Hey, don't look at me. Your man Freefall over there might look like a chess nerd, but he's totally out of control."

"So dead. You are so very, very dead," Bella snapped at him, but Emmett only smiled and raised his eyebrows. Emmett was a lot smarter than anyone ever gave him credit for being.

Mrs. Newton blew a shiny silver whistle, and the race began. "Just hang on," Edward yelled, and practically held Bella in midair while he limped his longer legs in a shockingly rapid gait all the way from one side of the field to the other and back again. They were within feet of the finish line, one of only three couples still left standing, when Bella tripped over a small bump in the lawn and felt her always-tenuous grasp on gravity slip away from her. Edward 's left leg had been in mid-step at the time of the stumble, and before he could get some traction, Bella went face-first into the lawn. Edward realized what was happening, and managed somehow to roll his body under hers so that instead of eating a mouthful of lawn, Bella and her face ended up sprawled on top of Edward, her mouth somewhere in the vicinity of his right shoulder.

"You okay?' he laughed, and moved his left arm to meet his right one where it lay across her back, completely pinning her against him. That felt really fantastic, so he tightened his arms around her, and when she wiggled slightly in surprise, what had felt fantastic a moment before now felt dangerously fantastic.

"Oh," she breathed. "It's such a shame you're too drunk to remember any of this."

Edward tilted his head up and gently kissed the corner of her mouth. "I know I'm pretty drunk, but I'd have to be dead to forget any of this, Bella."

Their extremely interesting conversation was interrupted by Mrs. Newton, whose shrill voice was asking all race participants to clear the field so that she could set up a new game. Edward rolled over on his side, taking Bella with him. "Okay, let's get this ribbon off so we can stand," she blushed, pulling the ends of the double bow to loosen the ribbon and free their legs. They stood, but Edward's arms refused to leave Bella's body, and she didn't ask them to, either.

They spent the remainder of the afternoon participating in some of the truly ridiculous games Mrs. Newton devised for their entertainment, losing the egg-in-spoon battle and the obstacle course, but placing fourth in "Red Light, Green Light". Edward ate fried chicken with his bare hands...and liked it. As the sun set, everyone gathered along the gentle rise toward the rear of the Newton property to watch the fireworks display.

The first explosion startled Bella, and Edward pulled her closer so that her back was resting against his chest. "I'm having such a good time," he murmured into her ear. "Are you having a good time?"

Rockets and time-rains and chrysanthemums and crossettes and roman candles lit up the sky in a confusing and overwhelming display of colors and sparks. Bella shivered a little at the noise, but turned her head to the side and nodded it against his chest.

"I'm sorry Emmett got you drunk," she said, because she didn't want him to think that she was happy about what had happened, even though the resulting changes in his attitude toward her had made her the happiest she'd ever been. She also wanted to give him an excuse for his behavior that afternoon, in the event that he wanted to return to his previously-detached way of greeting and dealing with her. The thought made her want to cry, but she didn't want anything from Edward that he wouldn't willingly give. He owed her nothing, and it would break her heart even further if he started avoiding her or acting awkward during their brief, daily exchanges.

"Are you? I'm not," he murmured again. "I want to write him a check or something. Bella," he pressed against her with one arm so that she was forced to turn and look at him. "Do you think maybe we could this again - not the party, obviously, but...something? Next weekend, maybe? Without the Purple Drought of Living Death? Maybe something a little quieter, too?" He added that last request as a barrage of loud explosions overhead sent the resulting concussion through their bodies and down into their shoes.

"Okay," she nodded, trying to contain her joy. He wanted to see her again, and he wanted to be sober for it.

"Thank you," he said, and pulled his arms in even tighter against her. Letting Bella into his life was probably going to make it a little messier than it had previously been; she might hurt him, ,and she would definitely expect him to compromise. He couldn't imagine that anything she might do would make him regret opening himself up to her, though. Calm order was cold comfort, and this warm, smiling, beautiful girl in his arms made him realize that every risk he took on her was worth it.

# # #


	3. Happiest Place on Earth

**Summary**: When Bella finds out her boyfriend is cheating on her, she goes to the one person she can talk to, Edward. Edward decides that Bella needs to get away for a few days and he suggests a mini-road trip to 'The Happiest Place on Earth.'

**Disclaimer: **Everything and anything related to the _Twilight _saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for being the most awesome readers ever. :) This isn't beta'd. Any and all mistakes are my own. I ran out of time-as per usual. lol

Happy Independence Day to my fellow Americans! And happy Sunday to everyone else. :-)

~Jen (the-glory-days)

**THIS CAN NOW BE FOUND ON MY PROFILE PAGE. (http[:]/www[.]fanfiction[.]net/s/6289311/1/)

* * *

**_Happiest Place on Earth_**

**_

* * *

_**

**1:45 PM**

**July 1st, 2010**

**Forks, Washington**

**_The Newton's House_**

"You two-timing piece of shit!"

"B-B-Bella! What are you? You don't understand. It's not what you think," Mike stuttered. He frantically pulled the bed sheets to cover up.

"Oh, it isn't. Then please explain what it looks like to me because obviously my eyes are failing me. It looks as if there's another woman in your bed."

Mike remained silent as he tried to come up with an excuse. He had forgotten that Bella would be flying back from Florida today. She had finished her last year at Barnard College a month before, but instead of coming back home to their small town of Forks, she had chosen to fly down with her mom to Florida. The last thing either had expected was this moment. He knew that he should have never given Bella a copy of his parent's house keys.

"Bella, I got lonely. You were all the way on the other side of the country. In fucking New York City. I only get to see you every few months."

Mike put on that soft voice that Bella so hopelessly fell for every time they had a fight. However, today, Bella wasn't taking it. She didn't care anymore. She loved Mike, and though it had been hard to make their relationship work from different sides of the country, she had thought that the three years of friendship before they started dating would help ease the distance.

Obviously, she had been wrong.

"What an excuse? You got lonely? Please don't give me the long distance excuse. That is such bullshit. And with Jessica Stanley? Of all the scum in the world? Her?"

"Excuse you?" Jessica interjected from beneath the bed sheets. She was hiding from Bella, but it was to no avail. Bella could see the roots of the terrible dye job Jessica had peeking from the top of the sheets.

"No! You don't get to talk!"

Bella was fuming. Her face was red; she could feel the heat blazing on her cheeks. Her fists lay clenched tightly at her sides, and her body remained hunched forward as if she were preparing herself to pounce on the bed and attack its occupants. It was all terribly strange to see. Bella tended to be levelheaded and mellow. This side of her rarely made itself known.

"We're over. So done. Don't call me. Don't text me. Don't email me. Don't Facebook me. Don't even wave to me if you see me in the goddamn supermarket."

"Bells, we can work this out. You know I love you."

"Are you kidding me?" Both Bella and Jessica reacted at the same time. Each woman's tone disbelievingly for different reasons. Bella shook her head and watched as Jessica clamored out of bed and began redressing.

"This is such bullshit, Mike," she yelled and Bella looked in slight amusement for a few moments before exiting. She left her key in the bowl by the door; she no longer needed them.

The last thing she wanted was for Mike or Jessica to see her crying.

* * *

**2:15 PM**

**July 1st, 2010**

**Forks, Washington**

**_Cullen Household_**

Bella furiously kept pressing the doorbell and knocking her fist against the Cullen's front door. She knew it was rude, but she desperately wanted- no needed to speak with Edward, and it appeared that no one was home.

Though the two had gone off to different universities, they remained close, but not as close as they had been when they were younger. Esme finally ended up opening the door. She looked frazzled and annoyed by the ruckus, but quickly changed face when she saw who it was at the door.

"Bella! Long time no see. How have you been?"

Bella smiled politely. Esme Cullen was and would probably always be the nicest person she had ever encountered. She always wore a smile on her face and was willing to help anyone who needed it. There was no way that Bella could greet Esme with a scowl. It seemed wrong.

"I'm alright, Mrs. Cullen. Is Edward here?"

This time Esme smiled tightly and stepped aside to let Bella enter. Bella quickly looked into the glass panes of the china cabinet by the door and noticed the puffiness around her eyes and the smudged eyeliner in the corner of her eye. They were telltale signs that she had been crying.

"Are you sure, Bella? You know you can tell me anything."

Bella nodded affirmatively, and Esme gave her a knowing look. She was all too familiar with that look since childhood. Esme had been goading her for an explanation, and Bella had refused to give one. She immediately knew that Esme suspected that something was wrong and that she was lying. It was all over Bella's face; she hadn't done a terrific job of hiding it.

"I'm alright. I promise. I just need to talk with Edward."

"Did you two fight?"

"Oh no. I just want to see him. It's been a while."

"It has," Esme replied. "He's upstairs. He probably has his headphones on and blasting. It would explain why he didn't come down to answer the door. Since he's come back, all he does is stay up in his room with those damn headphones. They're bigger than his head."

"Thank you," Bella quickly spat out as she ran up the stairs. She skipped the squeaky fifth step like she and Edward used to do when they were teenagers trying to sneak out of the house. She headed down the familiar, picture frame filled walls that led to Edward's room.

She knocked on the door a few times, but Edward didn't answer. Eventually, she decided to barge into the room.

"What the- Bella!" Edward yelped. The sudden onslaught of sunlight that entered his bedroom from the hallway had broken him out of his music-induced meditation. He was more than surprised to see Bella. He peeled his headphones off and hastily threw them down on the bed, before walking up to Bella and hugging her.

It had been about four months since they had seen each other. If he was being honest, he had truly missed her. Bella, though their friendship had grown slightly frayed due to school, was still an important person in his life. She was one of the few people he still talked and wanted to talk with from their hometown.

Bella hugged him tightly. She too had missed Edward. He was the one person she could always confide. He never judged her but was always honest with her. No matter if the truth was brutal.

"How have you been?"

"I've been better."

Her response was timid and weak. It caused Edward to take a closer look at her. That was when he noticed that she had been crying. He grabbed her once more and pulled her into another hug.

"What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay?"

Through tears and shaky breaths, she told him everything that happened earlier; she left nothing out. He just held her tighter and rocked them from side to side.

"I can't believe he cheated. After all those years, I kept telling him that I didn't want to date him, and he goes and cheats on me. I wonder how long it's been going on."

"He wasn't good enough for you, anyway."

Bella chuckled against Edward's chest. It made Edward grin, and he pulled away from Bella to smile at her. He grabbed a tissue behind him and wiped away her tears.

"You think everyone isn't good enough for me."

"I'm your friend; I'm supposed to think that."

"I can't believe he cheated me. I mean. I know that we really didn't see too much of each other in the last few months, but I had to focus about graduating on time," she reasoned. Edward shook his head.

"That's no excuse, Bella. You don't cheat on someone you supposedly "love."

Bella huffed in frustration and plopped down at the end of Edward's bed. She made sure she didn't end up sitting on his laptop or his headphones. Edward sat down beside her and put his arm around her shoulder, once again pulling her close to him.

Bella sighed contently. She felt safe in Edward's arm; she always had. Edward, though he was only about three months older, always played the role of the protector. Her cousin Emmett and Edward managed to make sure no one ever picked on her when they were kids. However, Edward was the one who could make Bella feel better at the drop of a hat.

"It's my fault, if you think about it."

"No, Bella. It isn't. You're not at fault here. Don't try to justify that you're the one to blame. Mike Newton was an ass in high school, and he still is."

"I guess, but he was so nice to me. I really cared for him. I actually loved him. I put so much effort into this relationship. I feel like it was all for shit."

"Fuck, Mike Newton. He's an idiot. He obviously didn't know what a catch he had. It's his lost."

Bella smiled shyly and snuggled closer to Edward.

"Thanks," she quietly said.

"Anytime."

* * *

**7:30 PM**

**July 1st, 2010**

**Forks, Washington**

**_Cullen Household_**

"Let's go somewhere," Edward suggested. He and Bella had spent the last few hours watching television. "Where? The diner?"

"No. Far away from Forks."

"Where do you have in mind?"

"I don't know. Let's just get the hell out of here. We've graduated, and yet we decided to come back here. What's wrong with us?" Bella chuckled and nodded in agreement. She turned to look at Edward beside her and smiled. He was making so much sense. A small vacation from Forks and everything and everyone in Forks sounded fantastic. It was _exactly_what she needed. Of course, he knew. "I agree. Let's get out of here. Where to?"

"'The Happiest Place on Earth.'"

"You wanna go to Disneyland?" Bella asked surprised. Edward never seemed impressed by Disneyland or anything Disney related. Bella could remember their senior trip in high school. Edward had been a sourpuss the entire five days they were at Disneyland. All he did was complain about the heat, the people, the children, and kept whining about wanting to go home. Bella had enjoyed herself immensely, getting on every ride before their time was up. "Yeah, why not. It takes about a day to drive down there. If we leave tomorrow, we can get there by the 3rd and then stay for the Fourth of July fireworks show." "That sounds like a blast."

"Are you down? I can book a room online," Edward said while he grabbed his laptop off his desk.

* * *

**8:00 PM**

**July 1st, 2010**

**Forks, Washington**

**_Cullen Household_**

"One room, two queen beds reserved for the 3rd to the 5th."

"I can't believe we're going to do this," Bella remarked. Edward smiled brightly at her.

"You need this Bella. It'll be a great way to see why you're awesome and Mike Newton is a twat."

"I don't quite know how Space Mountain or the Tower of Terror will show me how _awesome_ I am, but it sure as hell will be fun."

"That's the spirit," Edward chuckled. He walked toward his closet and pull down a duffel bag to start packing.

"I love you, Swan, but I suggest you go home to pack and sleep. We're leaving early."

"Of course, we are," she groaned as she stood. "You always want to leave early."

* * *

**5:20 AM**

**July 2nd, 2010**

**Forks, Washington**

**_Swan Residence_**

"It is too fucking early," Bella complained. Edward sat in front of her at her kitchen table. Her father had already left for work. Being the chief of police didn't only mean more money, it meant earlier call hours.

"Well, the sooner we leave, the sooner we can get to Disneyland."

"I know," Bella grumbled. She tried not to woof down her cereal, but she could tell that Edward was anxious to leave. He kept drumming his fingers on the table and staring impatiently at her.

"Want to leave now, don'tcha?"

"We'll according to Google Maps, it takes twenty hours to get to Disneyland. If we leave now, we can get there by tomorrow morning. However, I've taken into account that if we make a few rest stops we won't be too early for check in."

Bella laughed. Of course, Edward would have researched how long the trip would take. That was such an Edward thing to do. He always seemed ready for everything, always the perennial Boy Scout. He always had to be prepared for everything. God forbid he did anything spontaneous to its full capacity.

"Edward, we're going to take several rest stops. Specifically, so we can switch. I'm not going to let you drive the whole way there. That wouldn't be fair."

Edward gave her a horrified look, and she realized that he hadn't taken that into account. Edward was incredibly anal about who drove his car or who even satin his car.

"Umm, I don't mind driving the whole way," he replied. Bella threw her head back in raucous laughter.

"I knew it. I'm not going to wrap your car around a tree. I promise."

* * *

**9:00 AM**

**July 2nd, 2010**

**Somewhere between Forks, Washington and Seattle, Washington**

**_Rest Stop, Exit 169_**

"Better?" Edward asked. Bella nodded and patted along her stomach.

"I had to pee. I don't think I would have made it to the next rest stop, and I'm sure you would not have appreciated your leather interior smelling like urine."

"Correct."

"I think you care more about your car than anything else," Bella quipped. She walked over to the Starbucks at the rest stop and ordered a piece of banana bread and a frozen caramel Frappuccino.

"There are things I care about more."

"Name one, and it better not be your iPod."

"You," he answered honestly. It caused Bella to miss the barista behind the counter calling her name. For some reason, all she could hear was the pounding of her heart against her chest. She knew Edward meant it in a friendly manner, but for some reason, it had felt terrific to hear him say that he cared. Oddly, she couldn't explain the flutter in her stomach. All she could do was smile.

"Bella," the barista once again called out. This time Bella heard her and walked over to pick up her coffee.

"You've got a crazy caffeine habit, Bella."

"Yes, well, just because you choose to get your caffeine from Coca-Cola doesn't mean that your caffeine habit is any healthier than mine."

* * *

**1:42 PM**

**July 2nd, 2010**

**Somewhere between Tacoma, Washington and Lakewood, Washington**

**_Side of the Road_**

"We're lost."

"Yep."

* * *

**5:20 PM**

**July 2nd, 2010**

**Portland, Oregon**

**_Fuller's Restaurant_**

"Let's eat something here. There's a bunch of restaurants around here."

"Edward, we don't have to eat at a restaurant. Fast food works for me."

"Shut up, Bella. Look a nice little diner," he pointed to the left side of the road and drove a little ahead to find parking. The neighborhood that they were in was quite nice. There were people shopping in the small stores and people just walking around.

"This place is pretty cool."

Edward nodded his head and held the restaurant door open for Bella. The hostess quickly sat them at a table by the large front window. Soon enough, their food arrived.

"Always with the ravioli, huh?" Edward teased as he bit into his cheeseburger.

"Hey, I like Italian food. I don't go around making fun of the fact that no matter where we go, if there's a cheeseburger on the menu, you're probably going to order it."

Edward chuckled.

"Hey, look over there," Edward said distracting Bella. While she looked behind her, he grabbed a piece of ravioli and popped it into his mouth.

"There was nothing there," Bella remarked. Edward shrugged his shoulders.

Bella stared at Edward trying to figure out what all that had been about. It was when she looked back down at her plate that she noticed the few trailing drops of Pesto sauce on the table leading to Edward.

"You could've just asked for some."

"Stolen food taste better," he remarked and Bella broke out in laughter. It seemed like all she did around Edward was laugh. It was a pleasant change and a much-needed change after the Mike debacle.

"I bet."

"You can steal a fry if you'd like too," Edward offered, pushing his platter forward. Bella shook her head and scoffed playfully.

"It doesn't count as stolen if you're presenting me with the opportunity and giving me permission."

Edward laughed, and the two spent the rest of their dinner recounting stories from childhood. It was a fun dinner, and the first time in a while that Bella could remember having so much fun with someone. Of course, it had to be Edward.

"Thanks, Edward."

"For what?" he asked. He didn't know what she was thanking him for, but he knew it was something far more serious than paying for dinner. The little wrinkle in the middle of her brow was evidence to that. Whenever she was serious, she would furrow her brows and stare intently at whomever she was speaking with at the time.

"For all of this, for suggesting we take this trip and for coming along with me."

"It was no problem, Bella. I don't like seeing you upset."

They smiled shyly at each other and again Bella felt the same flutter in her stomach she had felt at the rest stop. There was something in the way Edward was looking at her that felt different from other times. Something in his gaze felt familiar yet utterly foreign. She couldn't place it.

Bella looked away from Edward and looked behind him causing him to turn around to see what she was staring at so intently. When he turned around, he found Bella shoving a few of his French fries into her mouth.

"You're right. Stolen food tastes better."

* * *

**8:55 PM**

**July 2nd, 2010**

**Somewhere between Eugene, Oregon and Roseburg, Oregon**

**_I-5_**

"We're lost again. Aren't we?"

"Shut up, Edward."

"I can read the map for you."

"Go back to sleep."

* * *

**9:15 PM**

**July 2nd, 2010**

**STILL Somewhere between Eugene, Oregon and Roseburg, Oregon**

**_Side of the Road_**

"Stupid fucking map. Why doesn't Edward have a freakin' GPS?" Bella talked to herself as she tried to figure out where they were on the map. Edward was sound asleep beside. He still had about another two hours of sleep time before he opted to swap with Bella.

She wanted to wake him up to help her, but he looked like he was in a deep sleep. His mouth was slightly open, and he was snoring softly. It was more like heavy breathing, but sometimes it became a full on snore.

Bella took a moment to study Edward. It was the first time, the first real time that she had stopped to admire her best friend. He was handsome. That was a given. He had always gotten tons of female attention in middle school and high school. He had striking features: a long, narrow nose, full lips, strong jaw, and hair that looked as if he had just had fantastic sex. He was tall and lean. If Bella remembered correctly, Edward had a toned, swimmer's physique.

Frankly, he was one of the most beautiful men Bella had ever seen, and that was saying something. Living in New York for about four years had provided her with a city full of attractive men, and yet, Edward could fit in with no problems. He could even stand out, especially with that odd shade of red hair.

He was warm and funny. He was gentle yet strong. He was intelligent, and yet he could be silly.

He was almost perfect.

He could be off with another girl having a summer spent mostly in bed and yet here he was…with her on a trip to Disneyland, all because he wanted to see her happy.

**

* * *

**

**11:10 PM**

**July 2nd, 2010**

**On the I-5**

**_Rest Stop, Exit 14_**

"I'll drive from here on in," Edward offered. He had noticed that Bella was getting tired as they headed down the I-5. Her eyes kept fluttering shut.

"Why don't we just stop at a motel? We'll be well rested. We won't have to worry about being early for check in at the hotel."

"Yeah, I guess."

* * *

**11:30 PM**

**July 2nd, 2010**

**Exit 14: Phoenix, Oregon**

**_Holiday Inn Express_**

"I want to shower."

"I want you to shower," Edward joked as he took a deep whiff of Bella.

"Oh, 'cause you smell like daises."

Edward chuckled and plopped onto the bed. The hotel had only one room left. It was a room on a smoking floor with a king-sized bed.

"Which side do you sleep on?" Edward asked. He moved to the center of the bed and waited for Bella's response.

"The right."

"My right or yours?"

"Mine," she replied. She was searching for her toiletry bag in her suitcase.

"Good, 'cause I like the left side."

Bella turned around to see him lounging on the left side. He was busy flipping through channels on the television. His body looked so long stretched out on the bed. His shirt had risen up on his torso. It teased Bella, just giving her a small peek at the trail of hair there. It was tantalizing.

"Looks like it's going to be a nice, hot day in Anaheim on the Fourth," Edward announced.

"That's good," she offhandedly remarked only having caught the very end of what he said.

* * *

**1:30 AM**

**July 3rd, 2010**

**Exit 14: Phoenix, Oregon**

**_Holiday Inn Express_**

"Nothing like a shower to make you feel like a human being," Edward remarked as he stepped out of the bathroom in a pair of sweats and nothing else. The sight caused Bella's mouth to go dry. She instantly felt her cheeks to see if they were red. His sweats were so low on his hips, and his body seemed much more toned than it did the year before.

"Yep," was all Bella could say.

"You okay?"

"Yep," Bella replied as she watched Edward walk over to the bed. They were choosing to sleep on top of the bed sheets. You could never trust any hotel to wash their sheets. Luckily, Edward had thought to bring some blankets.

"Goodnight, Bella."

"Goodnight, Edward," she quietly answered and turned over and away from him.

* * *

**2:55 AM**

**July 3rd, 2010**

**Exit 14: Phoenix, Oregon**

**_Holiday Inn Express_**

Bella couldn't sleep.

Sometime around 2:30 in the morning, Edward had turned over and was now breathing on the back of her neck. The heat from his mouth was affecting her in ways she never thought Edward could affect her.

* * *

**7:30 AM**

**July 3rd, 2010**

**Exit 14: Phoenix, Oregon**

**_Holiday Inn Express_**

Bella woke up to find herself spooning with Edward. She had finally fallen asleep around 3:30 in the morning and couldn't remember when this event happened.

She tried to wriggle out from under his arm, but he had a firm grip on her, and it had the adverse affect. He just held her against him tighter.

"Edward," she whispered. He groaned against her. "Edward, wake up."

"Five more minutes." He spoke against the side of her neck, and the feeling of his lips against her skin caused her breath to skip.

"No, come on, Edward. We need to leave."

"Alright."

He leaned forward as Bella turned ending in the two of them facing each other.

"Morning."

"Good morning," he replied sleepily and leaned forward. With his eyes still barely open, he leaned forward and kissed her soundly on the mouth. Bella didn't know how to respond, but her body did. Heat coursed up her back and caused a chill down her spine. She pushed her lips gently against his before she realized what she was doing. Quickly, she pushed away from Edward.

"Oh shit! Bella, I'm sorry," Edward, now fully awake leapt out of bed. "I'm sorry."

"Okay, it's okay," Bella stuttered. "I'm gonna go brush my teeth."

"Okay."

"Okay."

* * *

**11:30 AM**

**July 3rd, 2010**

**Near Redding, California**

**_Rest Stop, Exist 677_**

"Are we going to talk about what happened?" Edward asked as he pumped gas.

Bella shook her head and walked off into the rest stop to use the restroom and get some food.

* * *

**3:30 PM**

**July 3rd, 2010**

**Somewhere between Modesto, California and Fresno, California**

**I-5**

Edward turned to look at Bella. She was staring out of the passenger side window, avoiding him.

When he wasn't looking, Bella watched Edward before turning to face away from him again, only to turn back to stare at him again.

Only the radio provided noise.

* * *

**8:30 PM**

**July 3rd, 2010**

**Anaheim, California. 10 minutes from Disneyland Resort.**

**_Tropicana Inn & Suites_**

"What time do you want to head out to the park tomorrow?" Edward asked. He chose the bed closest to the bathroom to let Bella have the bed next to the window. He knew that she liked to wake up with the sun coming into the room.

"Whenever is fine."

Bella lay splayed out on her bed facing away from Edward. Things were still tense between them. They hadn't spoken much since earlier in the day. Bella didn't know what to say. Edward had always been just her friend. She be damned if she said that the kiss hadn't been fantastic. Though it was short, it had felt so right. She had no idea what that meant. She had no idea if Edward had kissed her in the morning because it was her, or because he was still too asleep to notice it was her.

"Does nine sound okay?" Edward was desperately trying to get Bella to talk. All her answers were either short or monosyllabic. It was frustrating. He felt guilty for kissing her. He wasn't sorry for doing it, but he didn't want her to think it was because he felt sorry for her. He had found himself in a situation like it before. He had kissed a girl, and she thought that he was taking advantage of the fact that she had just broken up with someone.

That wasn't the case with Edward. Bella had being playing an integral part in his fantasies since their sophomore year in college. He had flown out from California to spend Spring Break in New York with her. Those ten days had changed everything for him. However, that was around the time that she started to date Mike Newton.

"Nine sounds good."

"Okay."

* * *

**9:35 AM**

**July 4th, 2010**

**Anaheim, California.**

**_Disneyland Resort_**

"God, it took forever to get in," Bella complained as she slipped her pass in her pocket. She didn't want to lose it because it could be used to get into the California Adventure park next door and that was where her favorite ride was, the Tower of Terror.

"I know. Look at all these fucking people," Edward added. He was slathering sunscreen on his face and arms. He passed the suntan lotion to Bella, and she rubbed into her face and arms as quickly as possible.

"Where to first?"

"Space Mountain," Bella happily announced, and Edward smiled. Though things were still slightly tense between them, he could see that the Disney atmosphere was making Bella happy, and that was the whole point of this trip.

"All right, Space Mountain it is."

* * *

**11:05 AM**

**July 4th, 2010**

**Anaheim, California.**

**_Disneyland Resort – Outside of Space Mountain_**

"That was the longest line in history," Edward grumbled. Bella merely laughed.

"It was totally worth it." She was beaming up at him, and Edward couldn't help but smile back. Her hair was a mess and most of it had fallen out of her ponytail. His hand reached out to pull the rest of it out of the hair tie before he could stop himself.

"Here," he held out the hair tie to Bella. "It was about to fall out." Bella slowly nodded her hair and tied her hair back up." "How about Star Tours now?"

"Ah, you know anything with Star Wars is fine with me," he smiled, and Bella grinned.

"Know this I, Padawan."

"That was a terrible Yoda impression."

"It's better than yours," Bella argued.

"I don't do a Yoda impression."

"See? Better than yours."

Edward scoffed and walked away from Bella. He turned around to stick his tongue out at her, and she laughed. She jogged over to him, and they walked together to the ride. Thankfully, this line was shorter.

* * *

**12:25 PM**

**July 4th, 2010**

**Anaheim, California.**

**_California Adventure- Tower of Terror_**

"After this, we can get some lunch," Edward suggested as they moved up in the line. They were still standing on the outside portion of the line, but it was moving fairly quickly.

"Sounds good."

"Are you having fun?" he asked and turned to look down at her.

"Yeah. So far this has been one of the best days ever. Thanks."

"No problem."

* * *

**2:25 PM**

**July 4th, 2010**

**Anaheim, California.**

**_California Adventure- Tower of Terror_**

"Again?"

"Yes, Edward. We're going on again."

"This is the third time."

"It won't be the last today."

* * *

**8:45 PM**

**July 4th, 2010**

**Anaheim, California.**

**_Disneyland Resort_**

"Let's find a good place to sit to see the fireworks."

"Yeah. I don't want to deal with all the people shoving and crying babies," Edward added, and Bella shook her head.

"Are you honestly telling me you didn't have fun today?"

"Even though my feet hurt, I'm sticky, and I'm sure the sun block didn't work, I had a great time with you today."

"Me too, and about this morning-"

"Bella, I'm sorry. I hope you don't think I was taking advantage of you."

"No, Edward. I know that. I 'm just wondering why?"

* * *

**9:00 PM**

**July 4th, 2010**

**Anaheim, California.**

**_Disneyland Resort- Celebrate America Fireworks_**

Edward smiled wistfully and pushed a strand of hair away from Bella's eyes. He wrapped it around his finger before putting it behind her ear. He felt her cheeks flush and smiled again.

"It's been a long time coming. I've wanted to kiss you since Spring Break."

"In 2008?"

"Yes. I just…those few days we hung out are still the best days I've ever had. I had so much fun with you. You make me laugh, Bella, and you make me smile. I'm constantly smiling around you. I always want to be near you. You waking up in my arms was amazing. I know you just got out of a relationship, but I'd like to date you."

The fireworks were going off in the distance, but Bella remained staring at Edward instead of the sparks in the sky.

"I think I'd like that. You do all those things for me too, Edward. You always know how to make me feel better."

Edward smiled brightly down at her and picked her up. He kissed her chastely before Bella pushed forward and really kissed him. Their lips fit perfectly together. Edward knew exactly what he was doing. His kiss was gentle yet aggressive. He knew when to apply pressure and when to be soft.

They remained kissing as the fireworks went off in the background until a young boy kicked Edward in the shin. It had caused him to bite down on Bella's lip and to pull away from her.

"Ow!" Edward and Bella both groaned in pain.

"Hey kid. Why did you kick me?" Edward asked the little blond haired boy beside them.

"'Cause you're in the way. And you're kissing. Yuck!"

Bella laughed against Edward's chest, and Edward couldn't help but laugh as well.

"I'm sorry. We'll sit," Edward apologized. The boy nodded in a "you better" motion and walked back to where his parents were obliviously watching the fireworks show.

He and Bella sat down amongst the crowd and watched the bright lights bursting in the sky. Bella sat between Edward's knees with her head resting on his shoulder.

"Thank you. For all of this."

"Anytime, Bella. Maybe next time we'll do a cross country trip."

"That sounds like fun. Except next time, we'll take my truck."

"God no. It would take three years to complete the trip then," Edward joked, and Bella shook in his arms.

"That doesn't sound too bad."

"Now, that I think about it. It's doesn't."


	4. Spirit of '76

I flew without a beta on this one, so any and all errors are all mine. Happy Independence Day! ~ ~ spanglemaker9

*0*0*

_July 4, 1976-New York City_

"Tell me again where we're supposed to sleep tonight?"

"Eddie! Man, you need to relax!" Emmett says, stretching his massive body back as far as his cramped seat on the Greyhound bus will allow.

"Because you know every decent hotel room in the city will have been booked for months in advance," I continue. "And don't call me 'Eddie'. It's Edward. I've known you for three years. It's always been Edward. It's still Edward."

"Edward is a grandpa name," Emmett scowls.

"Yes, it _was_ my grandfather's name, actually. And then my father's and now mine. Edward worked perfectly well for them; it works perfectly well for me."

"And this…this right here… is why you need today."

I look at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"You! All ready to lock yourself into the Cullen Family mold at twenty-one. Man, there's a whole world out there that you've never seen, never experienced! You went straight from the hallowed halls of Andover, to the hallowed halls of Dartmouth, and you're about to enter the hallowed halls of Cullen Enterprises next year. There's no _life_ in your life!"

I scoff dismissively. "And spending the fourth of July in New York City is going to show me all this life that you say I've been missing?"

"It's better than spending it studying for your stupid summer classes. Like you even need more credits. So, yeah, it's a start."

"No, what it will be is crowded, noisy and dirty. And we'll probably be robbed. I can't believe we don't even have a place to stay tonight. I swear, Emmett, if we wind up sleeping in some filthy bus station…"

"Eddie! Just relax! Go with the flow and let the adventure find us!"

I roll my eyes and give up arguing with him. It's pointless anyway. I'll never understand how I let myself get talked into this—coming to New York City, of all places, for the Bicentennial celebration. New York City's reputation on just any ordinary day is formidable and intimidating. On a day like today, I'm expecting nothing less that pure anarchy in the streets.

Our bus slows as it enters a dark tunnel, indicating that we're getting close to Port Authority. Emmett straightens up and tucks his shirt back in, then pats his hair and smooths his sideburns. I cast a surreptitious glance at him as he does so. That shirt…it's a polyester monstrosity; light blue and printed all over with cracked Liberty Bells. He's got on his new bell-bottomed jeans and those ridiculous platform oxfords he's so crazy about. Emmett's 6'3" in his bare feet. Those stupid platform shoes make him the size and scale of Frankenstein. I'm dressed far less flashy, just jeans and a white t-shirt and sneakers.

The bus lurches to a shuddering stop in one of the bays and we join the rest of the rag-tag passengers shuffling down the aisle. If the people on the bus on their way to New York are any indication of the general population, then the city is full of people who talk to themselves and smell like tuna fish.

Port Authority is a nightmare; big and complicated and no decent maps or signage anywhere. How the hell is a person supposed to find their way around this place? No one else seems to be having a problem, though. People stream past us in every direction at a break-neck pace. I've never seen people walk so fast. Emmett and I spend a fruitless fifteen minutes looking for any exit to take us up to the street level before we give up and asked a cop. There are plenty of them standing around, which makes me nervous.

Finally, I see the blue glare of daylight ahead at the top of the escalator and breathe a sigh of relief. I'll feel so much better once I'm outside in the fresh air with a little space around me. As we step out onto Eighth Avenue, I quickly realize that I'm not going to find any of those things any time soon.

Everywhere I look there is….something to look at. Never in my life have I experienced such sensory overload. Signs and billboards everywhere, advertising everything, all demanding my attention. Noises, car horns, shouting, singing- an absolute cacophony. And it smells. Hot and hazy, smelling of dirt and sweat and rot. This place is hell on earth.

"This place is tripped _out_!" Emmett exclaims in delight next to me. "Check it out, man. That place is showing Kung Fu movies. Oh, and look- a porn house! Dig it, _three _porn houses just in that block!"

I open my mouth to lay in to him; to tell him I did not sit on a bus for five hours to sit in a filthy, disease-ridden Times Square movie theater to watch bad stag films _or_ bad Kung Fu films; to tell him that we were turning right back around and getting on the next bus back to Dartmouth where we belong, when the hot, fetid air is electrified with an ear-splitting screech.

"You fucking honky bitch! You best be backin' outta my block!"

"You get your skanky black ass over here and make me!"

"Bitch! You come on to _my_ block, charging _my_ Johns five bucks less than me for a blow job and you think I won't mess you up for that shit?"

We turn towards the voices in unison, but Emmett still feels the need to slap me in the chest to get my attention. They are huge. Two towering women in platform shoes and ridiculously tiny clothes standing just inches away from each other, ready to take each other apart. One of them, the "honky bitch", has on a tiny rabbit-fur jacket even in this sweltering weather. She's also got on just panties, a garter belt, and stockings, to make up for the overheating factor, I suppose. The other one is wearing a red tube top and a mini-skirt that might just be another tube top, and the largest afro I've ever seen. Something isn't right, though. They're more than just tall. They're _large_, they're…masculine. They're _men_. I'm sure I do a lousy job of keeping the shock off my face. It hardly matters, though. No one nearby is looking at anything but the two…women…about to come to blows over the price of a blow job.

"You look here, bitch. I can charge whatever I want. They come to me 'cause I'm just _better _at it! You couldn't get a goddamned _monk _off with that mouth."

"Bitch, you did _not_…!"

"Oh, yes, I _did_!"

One lunges at the other then and there's a scuffle, then a shriek, and then a flash of platinum blonde hair waving high in the air.

"You bitch! Gimme back my fucking wig!"

"Let's see you get some action _now_, with your big-ass hands and your bad tuck and your bald head!"

At that moment, one of the cops from inside the bus station notices the commotion and intervenes. The two…uh, women, are still screeching at each other, one waving the others' wig in her face, but officers have converged to hold them back.

"Eddie," Emmett stage-whispers loudly. "I think one of those chicks was a dude."

The one with the afro, unbelievably, manages to hear him.

"Hey, college boy!" she sings out to us as the cop tries to pull her backwards. "You wanna take a walk on the wild side? You wanna taste this brown sugar, big boy? Are you that big all over? You know you want to try some a' this sweetness, dontcha? C'mon, I'll do you both. I''ll even give y'all a discount."

"Um, Emmett, we're getting the fuck out of here," I hiss, hooking his elbow and dragging him backwards.

"I love New York," he sighs. But he allows me to pull him after me. I think we're heading east, but I can't be sure. I'm too overwhelmed to try and sort out where we are. After a block or so, Emmett gets distracted by even more stuff to the north, so we turn left and head that way. This is Times Square. I recognize this much from pictures. This makes me feel marginally better. Like if there are pictures of it in a book, then somehow it's less threatening.

We keep going north, although the pace slows as we make our way through Times Square. There are just _so_ many people. Walking in a straight line is impossible. Plus Emmett wants to stop and look at everything. I'm not even sure where we're headed; I just know I want out of this crushing scrum of people.

It takes blocks, but eventually the crowd does thin somewhat. The crazy billboards and flashing neon also disappear, so I know we've left Times Square behind us. We keep heading north on whatever avenue this is, distracted by the never-ending stream of wildly varying pedestrians flowing past us, the non-stop chatter in more languages than I can count, the store windows full of stuff that I didn't even know you could buy.

Abruptly, our sidewalk ends and we're facing a low wall and green grass.

"This must be Central Park," I say to Emmett, with a relieved sigh. A park is just what I need.

"We're not spending all damned day in some park, Eddie," Emmett grouses.

"A few minutes out of that Hieronymus Bosch painting out there won't kill you."

Emmett shakes his head and chuckles. "Only you would walk through a city like this and compare it to some dead dude's painting."

I roll my eyes, buy Emmett follows me into the park without further complaint. The mention of Bosch has made me remember that I read that the Metropolitan Museum of Art is somewhere on the edge of this park. I'm wondering if we can "accidentally" stumble on it and maybe I can drag Emmett inside for a little bit.

The park turns out to be only marginally less crowded than the streets. It's a major holiday, of course. And not just any Fourth of July; it's the Bicentennial. The party atmosphere hangs heavy in the air wherever we go.

We stop for a moment on the winding path so I can take a look at a map of the park I've found. It's nearly covered over in graffiti, but I can just make out the paths. Emmett's hand suddenly thumps my chest again to get my attention and I'm really hoping we're not about to be treated to another cat fight between transvestite prostitutes. I turn to look in the same direction as Emmett and that's not at _all _what I see.

Several dozen feet ahead of us on the path are two girls; a tall blonde and a much smaller brunette. The brunette is heading towards us at quite a clip, when the blonde snags her arm and spins her around. The brunette speaks quickly, waving her hands in agitation, pointing accusingly in the direction they've come from. The blonde interjects a few times, then shrugs her shoulders in apparent agreement with whatever her friend has said. They stop arguing and now just stand there looking at each other in a rapidly-cooling huff.

The blonde is tall, and made even taller by her red platform wedge sandals. She's wearing a really tight red sleeveless mini-dress that makes her look like a cross between an old-time movie star and a Pan Am stewartess.

But it's the little brunette I can't seem to tear my eyes away from. She's got on these really short electric blue running shorts that leave her long pale legs completely exposed. Well, her thighs are exposed, anyway. White tube socks with red stripes come up to just below her knees. Her tight red tank top says "Spirit of '76" in white letters across her breasts, which makes it really hard not to look at them. Her breasts, I mean. Her long brown hair is in two ponytails, just behind her ears. The girlish ponytails give her a young, innocent air which is completely at odds with the rest of her.

I have no idea how long I've been staring at her, making this mental catalogue of her appearance, when I feel Emmett's hand squeezing my shoulder hard. "Dibs," he mutters.

"Huh? No, you can't call it already! I mean, it doesn't even matter because we don't know them." I'm flustered and irritated at the same time.

"Well, we're about to know them," Emmett says, a predatory grin on his face. Suddenly, I feel weirdly protective, like I want to go throw myself between him and that pretty girl he's eyeing shamelessly. "Besides," Emmett says absently, "She's too tall for you."

"What? No she's not. She's tiny. She's the perfect height for... Oh, shut up," I snap, when I realize that I'm trying to argue with him that she's better for me than for him. Because it doesn't matter. She's just some strange girl in a park.

"Man, what are you talking about? She's tall! Now her little friend seems more your speed."

"Oh," is all I can say, because now I realize that Emmett's got his eye on the blonde girl. That's perfect because that leaves the dark-haired girl for me..."Wait. Why are we even talking about this?" I snap.

"Seems a good idea to sort out which is which before we get over there and accidentally start hitting on the same girl," he shrugs.

I open my mouth to tell him he's crazy and that we're not hitting on anybody, but his hand wraps around my shoulder like a vise and he's propelling me in their direction whether I like it or not. The blonde sees our approach and stops talking to look at us. The brunette notices and turns to look. I'm suddenly very glad that Emmett is shoving me in her direction. She was cute from a distance, but up close, she's absolutely stunning. Her dark eyes quickly size us up, then they meet mine and stop. And I stop. I stop breathing, I stop thinking. I just stop, and stare back at her.

Emmett drags us to a halt a foot away from them. Both girls are eying us speculatively, waiting to see what this is all about. I just keep staring at the brunette. Her eyes flick around, but keep landing back on mine.

She's not my type. Well, she doesn't look like anybody I've gone out with. To be fair, though, all the girls at Dartmouth are pretty much alike. Preppy, well-groomed, conservative. This girl looks like none of those thing. She looks street-wise, savvy, and cool. I'm not really _any _of those things. And yet, I can't stop staring. At her deep brown eyes, at her pouty pink bottom lip, at her perfect, tiny nose. I can't remember ever feeling this dumb-struck at the sight of a girl before.

"Hey," Emmett says with a broad grin.

"He—ey?" the blonde replies warily.

"Did you just…I mean, are you okay?" Emmett says, his voice full of completely believable sincerity and concern. I roll my eyes, because I know exactly what's coming, and it's bad. "Because it's a long way down from heaven, angel. You must have taken quite a fall."

The blonde stares at him a beat, then rolls her eyes so hard she probably sees the inside of her head. "Are you kidding me with that ridiculous line?" she says, a hint of New York in her voice. The brunette snorts with laughter. "Can I help you with anything else, Mister?" the blonde snaps, taking her friend's elbow and starting to turn her away. I'm panicking because Emmett and his stupid smooth moves have blown it before I can even open my mouth.

"Emmett," he says.

"Huh?"

"You said Mister. But that's too formal, considering how close we're about to be. It's just Emmett. And this is Eddie." He smacks my chest. Again.

"Edward," I say reflexively.

"Well, which is it?" the brunette finally speaks. Her voice is lower than I expected, and a little husky, with the same hint of New York that her friend has. I like it.

Emmett and I speak in unison.

"Eddie," he says.

"Edward," I say.

The girls laugh. The brunette's whole face changes when she laughs.

"Well, hello, Eddie/ Edward," the brunette says. "I'm Bella; this is Rose."

I can't help the smile I feel overtaking my face.

"So, what are you girls up to for the big day?" Emmett asks.

Rose sighs in exasperation. "We were supposed to spend the day with these guys…"

"These _assholes_," Bella interjects harshly.

"Yeah, so they turned out to be assholes. Now we're just going to chill out, I guess."

"What'd he do?" I can't help asking Bella, because I can tell that there was some sort of incident and I'm afraid she's going to tell me some jerk tried to take advantage of her or something.

Bella huffs angrily, "He voted for _Nixon_. Can you believe that? I guess that's what we get for letting our _dads _set us up on dates. Just a couple of knuckleheads from the old neighborhood."

I laugh out loud, because her response is nothing like what I'd expected.

"Sorry to hear that. What were the plans? You know, before they became assholes?" I ask.

"Hmmm," Bella ponders. "After we were done in the park, they were supposed to take us to the Seaport to watch the Parade of Tall Ships. Then we were going to Battery Park to watch the fireworks and then…" her voice pitches up like she's really excited about the last part, but for some reason, she stops herself.

Rose snorts dismissively. "You're dreaming, Swan. There was no way a wet blanket like Mike Newton was ever going to go to there with you."

"Where were you going?" I ask. Yeah, I'll take her wherever she wants to go. I don't give a shit what it is or what she's doing there. I'll take her.

"Just this club," Bella says. "The New York Dolls are there tonight. I want to go." I have no idea why she'd want to go to a nightclub to look at dolls, but I don't care; I'll still take her.

"Well, this is a damned shame," Emmett says, shaking his head sadly.

"What is?" Rose asks. I'm trying not to laugh, because she doesn't know him yet and doesn't even recognize when Emmett's reeling her in.

"Two beautiful girls like you, unescorted in a big city like this, on such a special day."

Rose cocks her eyebrow at him, "And you propose to do something about that?"

He turns his most charming, dimpled smile on her. It works like magic on the girls back at Dartmouth. "Maybe."

"It _is _a shame then," Rose sighs sadly.

Emmett's smile vanishes. "What is?"

"Those shoes. I dunno…I don't know if I can spend the day with those shoes." Rose tsks softly, eyeing Emmett's shoes, shaking her head.

"What's wrong with these shoes? They're outta sight."

I'm snorting with laughter at this exchange, because in one line, Rose has turned the tables on him and Emmett hasn't even realized it yet.

"You look like Frankenstein in those shoes," she says.

"Thank you!" I say, "That's exactly what I told him."

Rose just smiles serenely.

"But these shoes make me the perfect height," Emmett says.

"The perfect height for what?"

He takes a step forward, coming almost flush with Rose. He snakes one arm around her waist and she just stands there, stunned, looking at him. In her high wedge sandals, they are eye-to-eye.

"The perfect height for this," he says softly. Rose says nothing, and Emmett stares at her like he's just met his match. I'm pretty sure he has.

I chance a look at Bella just as she looks at me out of the corner of her eye. She cocks an eyebrow at me and smiles. "Well, whattaya know? That was interesting."

I laugh. "Yes, it was."

"So, Eddie," she says, hooking her hand into my elbow and turning me to walk with her. It's clear we're going to have to talk to each other if we want conversation, since Emmett and Rose are now lost. "Where are you from?" I don't bother to correct her about my name. For her, I'll be Eddie, at least for now.

"How do you know I'm not from here?"

She gives me a bored look.

"Okay," I say, holding up my hands, "I'm from Seattle. But I'm going to school at Dartmouth right now. What about you?"

"Rose and I are at NYU. We grew up together in Brooklyn, but we have a place in the East Village now."

"A native, huh?"

She smiles slyly at me.

"So, Dartmouth? You're all ivy league, then?"

I just shrug. "Whatever that means."

"It means you look like you're scared to death to be here."

"You sound like Emmett."

"Why's that?"

"He says I'm too uptight and I need to learn to live a little."

"Is he right?" We had been walking, Emmett and Rose trailing behind us, but now Bella has stopped, and she's looking up at me expectantly.

"He might be," I concede softly.

"Well, I guess it's good you ran into me, then. I can show you everything you need to see in this city. But how about we start with lunch?" She's pointing at a hotdog cart.

"You want to eat food you bought off the street?"

She rolls her eyes. "Remember that whole 'living a little' plan? A little street meat won't kill you."

"Okay, okay. Let's go."

So we buy the girls hotdogs. Bella gets hers heaped with sauerkraut and mustard. It looks disgusting, but she looks like she's in heaven. I stick to a single squirt of ketchup. We walk the perimeter of a man-made lake in the park while we eat and talk. Emmett and Rose are right behind us, but so lost in their world that it might as well just be me and Bella. Which is just fine.

Everything I thought about her when I first saw her is spot-on. She's savvy and street-wise. Nothing gets past her. She's smart as a whip and a little cynical, but passionate about all kinds of crazy shit I've never heard of. Clubs and bands and artists…it's like a secret world that exists in New York and Bella knows the password for the door.

I'm pretty sure I'm turning out to be exactly as I appeared to her at first sight, too. Intelligent, a little repressed, and too fastidious for my own good. I keep expecting her to turn up her nose at me in boredom, but she doesn't. She seems oddly intrigued by me, just the same as I am by her. She asks me all sorts of questions about college, my family, my plans for the future. And while many of my answers leave her bewildered, she's never dismissive, only curious. Listening to myself talk, for the first time, I see what Emmett's talking about; the tightly-bound, narrow road I'm on. Geez, maybe he's right. Maybe I do need to learn to live a little.

Bella teases me about my four-point-oh G.P.A. and my long list of extra-curricular activities, but she also sounds impressed by my achievements, which makes me feel like less of a stick-in-the-mud. She's majoring in English, specializing in early twentieth century poetry. When I ask her what she's going to do with that degree, she's not insulted (which she should be, because it was rude of me to ask), she just laughs and shrugs. She has no idea. And she doesn't care that she doesn't know.

As Bella and I walk, we keep accidentally-on-purpose bumping into each other; our elbows, our shoulders, our hips. Every little touch sends a thrill through me.

We stop on a little bridge over a pond to watch the people in paddle boats below. Emmett and Rose have stopped at the foot of the bridge to throw away their trash, but they finished that and they haven't moved from the spot. They're still talking in low voices, standing too close to each other. Bella leans on her elbows on the railing and I do the same.

"So…" I begin. "Can we really spend the day with you?" I know Emmett teasingly put it out there, but there's nothing I want more than to follow this girl around New York today.

"I think," she begins, her voice low with import, "that first, you should kiss me."

"Wh-what?"

"Kiss me. C'mon, Eddie, I know you're thinking about it. I know _I'm_ thinking about it. So I think we should just do it. Otherwise, we're going to spend the whole day thinking about doing it, wondering when we should do it, hoping that one of us does it. So let's just do it now. Then we don't have to waste all that mental energy and we can skip right to the part we both want to get to anyway."

I sputter and clear my throat. Everything she just said is absolutely true. I do want to. It's pretty much all I can think about. And I'm going to spend the whole day obsessing about when and how it's going to happen. But no girl has ever been so abrupt, so forward, with me before and she's left me completely speechless.

"Oh, come on, you're not going to get all bashful about it, are you? And pretend you don't want to?"

"No..it's…well…look…I just…Yes, I do want to, but I hardly know you. You hardly know me. That just seems...well, it would be forward…I don't want to take advantage of you and…."

"Take advantage of me?" Her voice goes up an octave and she plants her hands on her hips, which makes me look at those tight blue running shorts again, which is probably a bad idea when we're discussing whether or not I should kiss her. "Wasn't I the one to bring it up? Exactly how would that be taking advantage of me? I don't see how it's your place to protect my virtue! This isn't 1917, you know, Eddie. This is 1976 and I'm a liberated woman and if I want to kiss a guy I just met, then I think it should be my…."

And then I kiss her. I'm listening to her, too, I swear it. Every angry, feisty word. But what I'm really thinking about is her lips and her skin and her hair. And before she gets herself worked up into any more of a fury, I just do it. No warning, no preamble. I just grab her face in my hands and I kiss her.

Bella makes a surprised little squeak, which is funny to hear after her loud, angry diatribe. Her hands fly up to my wrists, and after just a moment, she reaches out for my shoulders. I relax a little and focus on the feel of her lips, which is really spectacular. It's warm and soft and she's been chewing Juicy Fruit since she finished her hotdog, so she tastes sweet. Her fingers grip my t-shirt and pull me closer. I step forward and press my chest into her chest. I swipe at her plump lower lip with my tongue and her mouth opens under mine. Her tongue flicks out to touch mine and I know it sounds cheesy as hell, especially on the Fourth of July, but I see honest-to-God fireworks. She's had the best idea ever. I make a mental note that from now on, I will do whatever Bella suggests, no questions asked. Because kissing her an hour after we met is turning out to be brilliant.

We break apart after a few moments and just stare at each other, both of us a little overwhelmed by what's just happened. I'm still holding her face, she's still hanging onto my shoulders. We hear a throat clear and finally look away from each other. Rose is standing just behind Bella, arms crossed over her chest, face stern. Emmett is standing right behind her, and he looks like he's doing everything in his power to keep himself from flashing me a giant thumbs up. I ignore him.

"What the hell, Bella?"

She takes a step back and looks a tiny bit flustered, which is pretty funny considering how she just laid into me about her virtue being hers to do with what she will. I don't really want to let her go. She was right. Now that it's out there, all I really want to do is spend the rest of the day kissing her. But I let her go and stuff my hands in my pockets.

"What?" Bella challenges Rose, "I wanted to, okay?"

"It's just funny that you smacked the hell out of Mike for even _trying_ that two hours ago."

"You did?" I ask her.

Bella shrugs and looks at her sneakers. I can't help but feel slightly smug.

"Oh, don't look so smug," Rose snaps at me.

"Alright, let's go talk about this," Bella says abruptly, hooking her arm in Rose's and pulling her across the bridge. "We're going to the ladies' room," she says back over her shoulder. "You might want to find a restroom, too. You know… before we leave the park?"

I nod as she disappears around the bend. "I think I saw one back that way," Emmett says. He nudges me and we head back in the opposite direction. "So, what was that?"

For a minute, all I can do is grin ear-to-ear. "She's amazing," I finally manage.

"Fast work," he comments, "Things are moving right along with Rosie, but I'm pretty sure she'd smack my face off if I tried that right now."

I laugh.

"So, are you glad I dragged you to New York after all?" he asks.

"Yes," I say. "Absolutely."

We find the john and clean up, but when we come back out, some sort of crazy parade has moved into the park. There are people everywhere, moving in a line, maybe twenty people deep. There are guys in tricorn hats beating on drums, chicks in bad Betsy Ross costumes, people waving old timey American flags and beating drums.

We spend a few minutes working along the crowd one way, looking for a break, then we double back and try the other way. I'm starting to get anxious. Bella's probably back from the bathroom and looking for me. And now, we're nowhere near where we started and I think I'm fucking lost.

"Emmett, I think we're fucking lost," I say.

"Fuck. No. We just need to find that bridge," he growls.

We walk in circles, for what feels like an hour, and we can't find the stupid bridge. Now I'm really panicking, because she's going to think I ditched her. Finally, I can't even tell how long it's been, we turn a corner and there's the fucking bridge, like it's been there all along. Which, of course, it has been, we're just the assholes who couldn't find it. But there are no girls. No tall blonde, no little brunette. I feel Emmett deflate at my side the same time that I deflate. The most amazing encounter I've ever had and I just…lost her. Like, I _literally _lost the girl. I feel so ridiculous and stupid.

Emmett and I say nothing; we just park ourselves at the rail and wait. We know they've already come back and gone, but neither one of us is ready to admit that out loud. I replay every moment of that hour with Bella in my head, every word that she said. Then it hits me.

"The seaport," I say.

"What?"

"They said they were going to the seaport to look at some boats. And then to something called the battery to watch fireworks."

"You really think we could find them?" Emmett asks, hope tingeing his voice.

"I don't know. Probably not. But trying is better than sitting here feeling sorry for ourselves."

I feel energized and totally alive. I haven't felt like this since…hell, I'm pretty sure I've _never_ felt this way. This is lunacy. It's a fool's errand. We'll never find them. That's what my head tells me. But my heart, which has chosen this crazy moment in time to sit up and finally say something, is telling me to go out there and scour this city until I find that girl. This feels important. _She_ feels important.

We're out of the park without saying another word to each other. Of course, getting to the seaport requires navigating the city and we don't have a map. We ask someone on the street, and she says we have to take the A or the E, whatever that means, before she rushes off again. We keep walking, and I see an entrance to the subway. The sign above the stairs says "AE", each number in a blue circle. I decide this must be what she meant, and so we descend. Into the _lowest depths of hell_.

If I thought it was hot, noisy and smelly above ground, that's nothing to compare to what awaits us underground. There is graffiti everywhere, covering every minimally flat surface. Everything is covered in layers of grease and soot, decades of accumulated filth. People rush everywhere, and the air roars with the sound of train engines, periodically pierced with the shriek of brakes, metal on metal. Even Emmett's boundless enthusiasm for all things New York dims in the face of this ninth circle of hell we've found ourselves it.

I have to stand there for a few minutes just to get my bearings, but eventually we sort out maps and tokens and turnstiles and we are on, hopefully, the right train, hurtling through the tunnel towards downtown. The inside of the subway car is equally horrifying. Everything is covered in graffiti, even the windows, and trash litters the corners of the floor. Emmett and I might be overwhelmed by the whole experience, but our fellow passengers seem singularly unfazed. They all sit quietly, not speaking, barely moving, eyes focused on the middle distance. No one makes eye contact with anyone. They all look bored beyond words.

I pay close attention to the passing stations and I'm able to usher us off the train at the right stop and back above ground. The streets are packed with people. Today is a holiday, but I can't help but wonder what it's like on an ordinary day. All of these people have to come from somewhere. And where do they all go at night? I suddenly feel young and naïve in the face of such a massive, complex city. Emmett's definitely right; I've seen nothing of life. New York terrifies me and overwhelms me, but it also makes me feel strangely excited and energized. I imagine, just briefly, what it would be like to live here every day and I kind of like the idea. There's no time to examine that thought too much, though. There's still the girl of my dreams to track down.

We have to ask a million people how to find the seaport, but we do. Surprisingly, everyone is helpful. I'm half-expecting to be knifed at each encounter, but everyone is jovial and celebratory. Most are on their way to the seaport themselves, to see the tall ships. It's fascinating to see such hardened, cynical people light up at the thought of a lot of romantic old sailing vessels. It hints at a secret soul that I never would have guessed this city possessed.

When we get there, I understand why they are entranced. It's an unbelievable spectacle. The ships are towering and majestic. They fill all the bays at the dock, but they also cover the water out in the harbor. All different shapes and sizes, the white sails filled with the breeze. They look like a painting, or something out of a picture book. I would be in awe myself, if we weren't so dead-set on finding the girls. Almost from the moment we arrive at the seaport, I know it's a lost cause.

"We'll never find them in all this," Emmett laments, as bodies press all around us.

"We need to get up high, so we can see the crowd," I say.

We get on line to tour one of the ships, the one with the tallest masts. This is crazy. We shuffle onto the deck, not listening at all to the guide pointing out all the historical features of this remarkable sailing ship. I should care, but I don't; because Bella's lost out there in this crowd, and if I don't figure out some way to track her down, I'll never get another chance to kiss her, and that thought is unbearable.

"Where did the crew sleep?" I ask, with as much fake enthusiasm as I can muster.

"Oh, very good question!" the eager volunteer says. "Just turn your attention this way and I'll show you."

I gesture wildly to Emmett. "Now's your chance!" I hiss.

He looks utterly baffled. "For what?"

"Climb the mast and look for them!"

"What?"

"I distracted him! Now go!"

"Fuck!" he says, but he starts to scramble up the main mast of the ship. I quickly realize that sending Emmett up was a poor choice. Yes, he's the stronger of the two of us, but in those stupid fucking platform shoes, he's a complete hazard up there. Every third step, the sole of his shoe slips off the metal rung and he nearly plummets to the deck.

"Hurry!" I shout. "Can you see anything yet?"

He hangs onto the mast for dear life and tries to scan the massive crowd milling around on the dock.

"This is hopeless," he says. My shoulders sag. I know he's right. "Fuck! That's Rose! I see her hair! Fuck! Hurry!"

"What? Where?"

"Out there! By that statue!"

"Get down! Let's go!"

Emmett tries to scramble back down quickly, but the shoes are even worse on the descent. When he's almost to the bottom, the guide reappears and starts screaming at us. Emmett flings himself off the mast when he's still four feet from the deck and we flat-out run for the gang plank.

"Which way?" I shout, as my feet hit the dock.

"Follow me!" Emmett plunges into the crowd, shoving disgruntled New Yorkers out of his way, left and right.

We're almost there. I can see the statue growing closer over the heads of the crowd. Three more people scramble to the side and we're there. And there are no girls.

"Goddammitt!" Emmett snarls. We circle the statue multiple times and spread out, but to no avail. If that was them, they've gone. We missed them again.

"Battery park," I finally say to Emmett.

"Huh?"

"It's getting late. They said they were watching the fireworks at Battery Park."

We ask a whole lot more people what and where Battery Park is and this time, we decide to walk it. I'll be happy if I never see the inside of the subway ever again. We grab food on the way there, more hotdogs off a cart. This time, I don't even give a thought to the potential diseases lurking in the hotdog water. I just wolf it down and continue on my trek to find Bella.

The streets are nearly wall-to-wall bodies by now, and it takes us forever to get there. It's nearly dark when we do and we quickly realize the futility of this mission. Thousands of people pressed together in the dark and we're looking for two girls? It's ridiculous.

Emmett and I wander aimlessly through the crowd, not in the mood for conversation or celebration. I think we both felt the same crazy potential with Bella and Rose, and having them slip away has depressed us both beyond words.

The fireworks begin, exploding nearly directly over our heads. It's a spectacular display, but I can scarcely bring myself to glance up. Emmett looks up at one particularly vivid explosion and runs right into some guy in an Uncle Sam costume on stilts. Of course, he knocks the poor guy right off his stilts and he goes over, crashing to the pavement in a tangle of red, white, blue, and wood.

"Oh, man, I am _so_ sorry!" Emmett exclaims, rushing to help Uncle Sam back to his feet. But the stilts were inside his extra-long pants and strapped to his feet, so getting him upright again is a struggle. I watch the whole comedy of errors for a moment; Uncle Sam with his bad white beard hanging off one ear; Emmett, like Frankenstein in his stupid platform shoes; the two of them stumbling and falling all over each other in an awkward dance, and I start to laugh helplessly. The whole scene is so ridiculous, and never in a million years could I have imagined that this is how today would go, and I'm weak with laughter.

"Man, you could _help_," Emmett grumbles.

I'm waving my hands in front of my face, trying to get the hysterics under control when I overhear a conversation just behind me.

"Rose is a cool chick, but that Bella is one uptight lady."

"Mike, you're crazy, man. Rose is a bitch on wheels! She always has been. I only said I'd take her out today because our dads are tight and the chick is foxy as hell."

I spin and spot the two guys just behind me. The one who called Bella 'uptight' is on the short side and blonde. The other guy is brown-haired, mid-height. They're both drinking out of beer cans poorly concealed by paper bags.

"You know Bella and Rose?" I snap.

They look startled. "What's it to you?" The brown-haired one says, cocky.

"I'm a friend. I was supposed to meet them here and we lost track of each other."

The blond—Mike, eyes me speculatively. He's drunk. "I doubt that, man. Those girls were on dates with us today."

This asshole was the Nixon-voter, the one that tried to kiss Bella. I want to level him, but he's my only link to Bella right now. I'm astounded that I managed to run into them in the middle of all these people, but I'm not going to waste time calculating the odds. I'm just going to get the information I need out of them. Emmett has finally gotten Uncle Sam back up on his stilts and joined me. Both guys check him out, and for the first time all day, I'm grateful for Emmett's platform shoes. He's enormous. They look spooked.

"Look, I would really like to find Rosie," Emmett says, in a scary-calm voice. "How about you two cats play nice and tell me where they were headed?"

"Bella said she wanted to go to some club to look at dolls," I offer.

The one named Mike rolls his eyes and snorts dismissively. "Fuck. Yeah, she wanted to go see that fag band."

"And where would that be?" Emmett says, smiling that smile he uses just before he's about to obliterate someone's face. The one named Tyler seems to smell the danger.

"Max's Kansas City," he says uneasily. "Off Union Square."

Emmett beams at him, kind of creepily. "See how easy that was? Now you two gents have a good night and don't mess with any more girls, alright?"

They both scoff softly, but it's an uneasy sound. They want us gone. We start to push past them, because we want to be gone, too.

"And hey!" I snap, turning back to level one last shot at Mike. "Nixon was a criminal and an asshole!"

Mike and Tyler have no response and now I feel sort of juvenile, but Emmett's yanking me away.

"Okay, Max's Kansas City. Union Square," he's muttering. We start walking, but the progress is painfully slow in this massive press of people. It takes us forever just to get out of the park and back to the streets. We ask two cops on horses how to get to Union Square. "North," we are told. So we walk north.

And we walk. And we walk. Every few blocks, we stop to ask if we're still on the right course, and we are, it's just always further north. Emmett begins to complain bitterly about his feet, but I'm unsympathetic. It serves him right. I want to burn those shoes.

I check my Casio a million times and it's getting late, so late. There's no way we'll get there in time. The place will probably be closed by the time we find it. But Emmett is determined.

"We've come this far, dammitt!" he snarls. "I'm gonna find the damned place, even if it's closed up tight when we do."

And we do find it. We cross through Union Square and over to Park Avenue and to my amazement, the sidewalks are full of people dressed for a night out, even though by now it's nearly midnight. Cabs pull up, spewing out even more people. They have crazy clothes and wild hair and makeup, even the men in some cases. Suddenly, Emmett's shoes are the tamest thing on the scene. We spot it ahead; the awning that says "Max's Kansas City", and push through the crowd to the door. The marquee near the entrance says "The New York Dolls: Playing tonight". Now I get it. It's a _band_.

The doorman eyes us critically, like he's not so sure he wants to let us in. Emmett digs in his pocket and shoves a wad of cash at the guy. He stamps our hands and we're in. It's small, with a low ceiling. It's loud and hot. I'm not sure they have air-conditioning. What kind of nightclub doesn't have air-conditioning?

The place is packed with bodies; sweating, gyrating bodies. And the _noise_…there's a band on stage and in this tiny room, the music is deafening. But the beat is infectious. You can feel it in your chest, in your fingertips. It makes the people around us bounce and sway. It almost makes _me_ want to bounce and sway.

The bodies part and we can finally see the stage. I think they're all men. Since I've gotten to New York this morning, I feel like I'm already getting better at picking out the men, even when they're disguised in girls' haircuts and makeup and sequined clothes.

"Hey," Emmett says at my side, pointing at the guy singing lead, "My mom has that same dress."

Once again, I feel the futility of trying to find the girls in this crowd, if they ever came here at all. But at least it's one large room and not some open-air park. We'll just check every corner. If they're here, we'll find them.

"Let's split up," I shout in Emmett's ear, craning up to reach. "You take that side, I'll take this side."

He nods and heads off to the left, elbowing his massive frame between sweaty bodies. People move away from him easily. I start pushing my way through to the other side of the room. The band launches into a new song and the crowd erupts in screams, surging towards the stage. I get bounced between bodies like a pinball. I can't tell the girls from the boys, or the ones who are dancing from the ones who are having sex standing up.

"Hey, pretty boy," a low male voice purrs in my ear. I don't even look, even when I feel a hand on my ass. I just keep pushing through the crowd. If Bella is here, I will find her. I keep pushing, back towards the back left corner of the room.

And there she is.

She's sitting at a table in the corner, drink in hand, sucking on the tiny red straw. Her face is passive and her eyes are distracted. I've spent so long looking that for a second, I'm afraid it's a mirage. But she's there, sipping her drink, only half-listening to the band. I keep pushing forward and stumble through the bodies to an unsteady stop in front of her table. She looks up and as soon as she registers it's me, she leaps to her feet, eyes wide.

"We lost you!" I shout. I need to make this right, immediately. She thinks we ditched them and I have to fix it. "I'm such an idiot! We came out of the bathroom and there was this parade and we got all turned around and we couldn't find that stupid bridge again. Then we did, but you weren't there. I _swear_ we didn't ditch you. We waited, but I'm sure you already left. We've been looking for you all day! We went to the seaport and we thought we saw you, but we couldn't get there in time, and then we went to Battery Park, and then…"

"You've been trying to find me?" she finally says.

"Yeah. All day. Then I ran into that asshole, Mike, at the fireworks and he said you were coming here…"

"Wait. You met Mike?" she closes her eyes and shakes her head in confusion. I know exactly how she feels.

"Yeah, crazy, right? Forget the Nixon thing. That guy's just an asshole, plain and simple. But he said you wanted to come here and we've been walking forever and…"

Then she kisses me. One minute she was standing in front of me, silently listening to my breathless rant about all I'd gone through to find her, and then she just launches herself at me. Her arms lock around my neck and she kisses me. For one helpless second, I just stand there, stunned, my hands still hovering in mid-air where I'd been gesturing. Then her tongue flicks my lip and I grab her hard and pull her in against me. I pour all the frustration from the day into that kiss, all the desperate hope, all the fear that I'd never track her down again. I just kiss her, long and hard and thorough, until neither of us can breathe.

Just like the first time, we stand there a little stunned, our faces just inches apart, looking at each other as this colossal new understanding takes root in both of us. It's almost like I can feel the ground shifting under my feet as my reality re-organizes itself, with Bella as its new center. Or maybe that's just the bass from the band.

"I should find Emmett and let him know Rose is here," I murmur, not looking away from her face.

Bella's eyes flick to the left. "It's cool," she says, nodding her head towards the bar.

I turn to see Emmett, a head taller than anyone around him, bending his face down to the flash of Rose's blonde hair. He whispers in her ear a minute, then she ducks her chin and smiles. All is right with the world.

As I'm still looking at Emmett and Rose, I feel Bella's lips against the side of my neck. I close my eyes and inhale, tightening my grip on her waist.

"Do you want to get out of here?" I mutter. Now I'm the one being forward, but I'm guessing Bella won't mind.

I can't see her smile, but I feel it against my skin. She pulls me back to her little table in the corner and turns, pushing me down into the chair she was in moments ago. Before I can ask her what she's doing, she's on my lap, straddling me, her pale thighs gripping my hips, her fingers digging into my hair. I want to stop and live in this moment forever.

"I kinda want to stay and see the second set," she says, before slamming her mouth down on mine. This time it's crazy and intense, by far the hottest kissing I've ever done. Bella's sweet, wet lips are all over my mouth, my jaw, my neck. Her tongue is tangling erotically with mine, until she darts away to lick my earlobe. She kisses, tastes, nips at me, and it's all I can do to keep up. I grip her hips in my hands and pull them against mine. When she feels how hard she's made me, she moans and so do I. I pull her into me again and she grinds herself down. Her fingers tighten in my hair and I gasp into her open mouth.

"Edward..." she sighs.

I really don't want to ever stop what we're doing, except maybe to get the clothes out of the way, and I don't even care that we're doing it in the middle of a crowded club, but there is a harsh piece of reality to deal with.

"Emmett and I have to catch a bus back to Dartmouth tonight," I murmur into the soft skin of the curve of her neck.

"What?" she says.

"He didn't get us a hotel room. We were only supposed to stay for the day," I explain, before I drag my tongue up her neck to her jaw. Her skin tastes amazing. I want to lick every square inch of her.

"Oh, that," she says in a breathy little moan, eyes closed, head thrown back. "It's cool. You'll move in with me."

"Huh?" I sit up at the same time she does. Her eyes have snapped wide open. She didn't mean to say what she just did. She stares down into my face in anxiety.

"I mean…you'll _stay _with me. Tonight. Or for the weekend, or whatever. I didn't mean _move_…" This is the first time I've seen her anything less than completely self-assured. She's adorable, but she needs to stop back-pedaling.

I reach up and take her face in my hands. "How about we start with this weekend and then we go from there?"

She beams down at me, sliding her own hands up to hold my face, before she leans in again to kiss me. She might have slipped up and said more than she meant to say, but that's okay, because she said exactly what she was thinking. I know this, because it's what I'm thinking, too. I'm thinking yes, I'll come home with you tonight, beautiful girl, but that's only the start. Because I came to this city to celebrate history, but now, in this hot, loud club, with this amazing girl on my lap, all I can see is my future; and it's all tangled up in her dark eyes and her dark hair and this crazy, beautiful place she lives.


	5. The Boy in Blue

**I don't own Twilight or the hot pictures of Rob on the WfE set. They just make me think of these things.**

**Dedicated to my Ficsters: WriteOnTime, LittleSecret84, Spanglemaker9 and the-glory-days. I love them more than cotton candy.**

**The Boy in Blue**

**by Ciaobella27**

"Please, Bella. Pretty please. Pretty, pretty, pretty please. I'll be your best friend."

"You're already my best friend," I replied, flipping through the pages of US magazine. "I just can't get used to Ashley Tisdale's new nose," I mused, it just didn't fit her face.

"Bella, focus. I'm begging. Pleading. Madame Zelda is supposed to be amazing."

Drawing in a breath, I placed the magazine back on the stand and stared across the street at the Firecracker Festival. Every year for as long as I could remember, Forks held a festival Fourth of July weekend. It was one of those things you looked forward to every year as a kid. But we were in college now. It was a little passé.

"Alice, don't you think you're acting a little irrational? She's a palm reader."

"I know. But she told Lauren last year that she'd get into Syracuse and she did."

"The girl wore a Syracuse sweatshirt everywhere. She probably had it on!" I argued.

"Bella. Come on. I'll call Rose and we can all go together."

I still didn't want to budge. I found the whole thing creepy. You pay someone to look at your palm and tell you what you want to hear. No, thank you. "I'll buy you cotton candy. Every color."

Alice always found my weak spot. I loved the cotton candy at the fair. I sighed, knowing that I was going to give in. From the look on her face, Alice knew it, too. I didn't even need to say a word. She read my face, squealed and pulled out her cell.

Less than a half hour later, we were walking through the gate to meet Rosalie by the ticket booth. She was barely paying attention, still brooding because her boyfriend Emmett was vacationing with his family for the month. When Alice told her our plan for the evening, she agreed grudgingly. I wasn't surprised. I didn't think she'd be happy about anything until he came home.

We made our way to Madame Zelda's tent, which looked like a giant tapestry sale. I waited as each of them took a turn behind the curtain and sat down on her velvet stool. I waited as they held out their hands and heard their futures.

Alice went first and came bouncing out, her eyes bright and her grin wide.

"She said that I've met my soul mate and we're more in-tune that most couples. I just know that it'll be me and Jasper forever. I wonder how he feels about winter weddings."

"You go ask him that," Rosalie replied, sarcastically, "and you'll never have a chance to find out. You've only been dating for three months. You'll freak him out."

"The heart knows, Rosalie, my dear. The heart knows."

"So dramatic," she replied, rolling her eyes. "My turn."

Less than five minutes had passed when Rosalie stormed out of the small room, infuriated because the old woman insisted she'd watch fireworks with her true love.

"How the hell am I supposed to spend the fourth with the love of my life if he's in Colorado!" she exclaimed, pulling her cellphone out and marching out of the tent.

"And she called _me_ dramatic," Alice muttered, shaking her head. "You're up, Bella," she sang. "Go find out if Mr. Right is going to sit next to you in class this semester. Or maybe you'll bump into him at the lab."

"I'll settle for Mr. Okay, but I don't think _Madame Zelda _has any insight into that."

"Open mind, Bella," she said, as I walked through the hanging tapestry and into the old woman's sitting room. Inside the room there was a small table covered with a multicolored tablecloth. The woman sat in a large chair with a high back, her dark skin wrinkled and hair pulled back. I wondered if she was from the Reservation.

"Sit down, child," she said motioning to the velvet stool. "You don't believe in the power of the spirit?"

I was immediately embarrassed. I had kept my voice down in the waiting area. I never meant to offend anyone. I just didn't believe in palm readers.

"I'm…I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for you to hear that," I replied, feeling the heat in my face.

"It wasn't your words that I heard," she said. "Not the ones you speak."

She chuckled and again motioned to the seat across the table. I wanted to leave, but I couldn't be that rude.

"May I see your palm, my child?" she asked, holding her hand out. I hesitantly placed my hands palm up on top of hers. Her fingers were dry and rough and moved along my palm.

"You have a very long life line. See here," she said, pointing to a line bisecting my palm. "Ooh, and your love line—what a lucky girl you are. Not many get to experience the love that you have. You are truly blessed."

"You must be mistaken. I don't have anyone," I explained, uncomfortably.

"Hmmm. Watch for the boy in blue. He'll need some encouragement."

"Um…okay."

"So sweet," she said again, sitting back and placing my hands back on the table.

"Is that it?" I asked. I didn't want to be rude, but I hadn't gotten much out of her. The boy in blue? That's only like eighty-percent of the population. Way to narrow it down, Madame Zelda.

"Have a good evening," she said, chuckling again. I was glad she found this humorous.

Shaking my head, I stormed out of the room like Rosalie, twenty dollars short and irritated as hell.

"So, what'd she say?" Alice asked, bouncing on her toes.

"I have to look for the boy in blue, so someone drop me off at a police station. Or wait, is Blue Man Group playing in the city because face paint is hot."

"Bella, you never know," Alice added.

"Sure. Whatever. Let's go do something productive…like eat cotton candy until we throw up. You're buying."

"And you wonder why you haven't found Mr. Right," she replied, shaking her head. "Puke, I've found, is a major turn-off."

We walked through the midway, passing carts selling red, white and blue hats and light-up wands. I remembered begging my dad to buy me glow-in-the-dark light sticks to wave in the air before the fireworks when I was a kid. I hadn't seen the fireworks in ages.

As we approached the cotton candy vendor, the sweet scent of sugar filled the air and made my mouth water. I didn't care what they wanted to do next. I was grabbing a spot on one of the picnic tables and staying right here for the rest of the evening.

"Alright, Bella. Since you were such a good sport and didn't complain once," Alice began, he tone dripping with sarcasm. "What color cotton candy are you starting with?"

"Decisions, decisions," I replied, tapping a finger against my lips. "I'm feeling…_blue_."

"Naturally."

While Alice walked up to the counter to place the order, Rosalie glanced at her phone for the hundredth time.

"Rose, staring at it won't cause it to ring," I finally said.

"Thanks for that, Bella. Really. I'm not _willing it_ to ring," she explained, indignantly. "I'm…waiting for a text."

"So much different."

"Emmett hasn't been answering his phone and it's weird, alright? He never screens my calls and he always checks in. I'm worried."

"They're camping, right? Maybe they're out of cell range. Maybe his battery died. You know how forgetful he can be. When you're not around, he's kind of lost."

"I hope he's okay," she replied, looking down at the screen once more. Yes, Emmett was kind of lost without Rosalie, but Rosalie was just as lost without Emmett.

"He's fine and probably in the mountains somewhere staring at the blank screen of his phone, too."

She gave me a weak smile, but I knew it wasn't much consolation for her.

As Alice paid for my cotton candy and Rosalie continued to press refresh on her phone, I scanned the crowd, looking for any familiar faces. That's when I saw him. He was tall and muscular with crazy russet hair, walking through the crowd and past the midway.

"Alice, come on," I said, grabbing her hand.

"Wait," she cried, reaching back and picking up the bag from the counter. "What the hell, Bella?"

"There was a guy…." I said, shaking my head, unable to put into words the way he made me feel.

"A guy? Was he wearing blue!"

"Um…no. White, but he was incredible."

"But he's not Mr. Right, Bella," she replied.

"Are you kidding me, Alice? You're really listening to Madame Zelda? No. Just no. We need to find this guy."

Alice called over to Rosalie, who was naturally staring at her phone.

"Bella saw a guy," she announced.

"Bella saw a guy?"

"Yes, and we're going to find him."

"You two," I began, impatiently. "Less talky and more walky."

Grabbing Alice's hand again, I tore through the crowd in the direction he headed, looking in booths and kiosks for any sign of him.

It wasn't until we reached the carnival rides that I saw him. He stood next to the ferris wheel, his leg bent and resting on top of the gate with a large metal lever in his hands. He had some dirt on his face and a fine layer of sweat on his skin. I usually dated science geeks and book nerds. I couldn't explain how looking at him made me feel. I thought I was going into cardiac arrest.

"That's him," I said, sounding winded and breathy.

"He works here?" Rosalie asked. "Like as a job?"

"Come on. Let's get in line."

"We can't fit three people," Rosalie said, matter-of-factly. "You go on with her, Al. I'll be over here."

I was getting more and more impatient so I tugged Alice by the hand over to the end of the line. As we waited, I watched the muscles in his arms flex as he pulled on the lever to start and stop the ride. When it was time for the wheel to spin, he would step back and wipe his brow with the back of his hand. He didn't speak to any of the patrons. He didn't even smile.

My heart began beating faster and faster the closer we got to the front of the line. I had no game plan. I had no game. But I had to do something.

My hands were shaking when the couple in front of us started to board. He locked the bar on their chair, and walked back to the line, stopping right in front of me. I wondered if his hand would touch mine when I passed him my ticket.

Once again, I watched his arms move as his pulled the lever, sending the chair up in the air, suspending it just past our heads.

Then he looked at me. Right in my eyes. His were beautiful. Such a pretty steely gray and I wanted to stare forever, and he was staring, too ,and we were having an actual moment. But then he cleared his throat and I looked down, noticing that he was reaching out his hand and looking for a ticket.

"Oh, sorry," I muttered, holding it out for him. The edge of his mouth turned up slowly and his chest moved slightly, almost as if he had laughed. It was the only reaction I had seen from him throughout the entire time I had been in line.

I gathered up my courage as we walked to the chair. I hopped in, waiting for Alice, and once she was inside, he walked toward us, shutting and locking the bar in front.

"What's your name?" I yelled, as he turned to head back to his station. My heart stopped—literally ceased beating, when he turned around. That edge of his mouth that sort of turned up had morphed itself into the sexiest smirk I'd ever seen.

"Edward," he said, before shifting the lever, sending us backward and into the air.

"I can't believe you just did that," Alice squealed. "Where is this coming from?"

"I don't know," I replied. I was usually so shy.

It was the longest five minutes of my life as I waited for all of the cars to be filled and the ride to begin in earnest. Each time we dropped down and swept across the platform, Edward stared right at me. Each time I saw him, my heart beat faster and chest felt tighter.

I began to panic when the ride began to slow down and stop. I knew he was letting people out. I knew my time was limited. I just didn't know what I'd do next.

"Give him your number," Alice suggested. "Or ask if he has a break."

Yes.

Our feet hovered in the air, right above where Edward would be standing, waiting for us. I wanted to look into his eyes again. I wanted to see that smirk. I wanted to touch his lips—kiss his mouth. I wanted. So much.

As the wheel moved us down, I drew a deep breath. He walked toward us, smiling, his eyes so clear and bright.

"So, do you think it's fair that you know my name and I don't know yours?" he asked, bending and placing his hands on the bar.

"Bella," I said, breathy and low. "I'm Bella."

"How old are you, Bella?"

"I'm twenty," I replied. "How old are you?"

"Older."

I could see the people in line getting aggravated, staring while I blatantly flirted with Edward. An hour ago this would have embarrassed me. Now, it really didn't.

"Do you get a break anytime soon?" I blurted out.

"Yeah, actually," he said, smiling again—amused by how forward I was acting. "Why?"

What was I supposed to say? I want you to take me somewhere private and kiss me until I can't breathe. I want to run my hands along your chest and hold you against me tight. I want to look in your eyes and lose myself and feel this way all the time.

But I couldn't. Not that.

"How about this? Would you like to take a ride with me?" he asked, motioning to the wheel above us.

I looked over to Alice who was watching the whole exchange with wide eyes. It must have been awkward, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't help anything I was saying or anything I was doing.

"Um…I'll go sit with Rosalie and help her stare at her cellphone," she offered. Edward opened up the gate, letting Alice out, then put two long fingers into his mouth, and whistled over to a scruffy-looking blonde man at the concession stand.

He walked over, hands in his pockets, raising his eyebrow at me and then Edward.

"James, would you mind covering my break?" he asked, looking at me as he spoke.

"Well, this is a first," he said, smirking. Only his smirk wasn't sexy like Edward's. His smirk looked more like a sneer.

"You know how to work the ride, right?"

"Of course," he replied, leering at us. "Enjoy yourselves."

He hopped into the seat next to me and I was immediately overwhelmed by his closeness. I could feel the heat from his body, and I wondered if he could feel the heat from mine. He reached his arm around the back of the car, so that I could feel it lightly grazing across the back of my neck. Every time it brushed against me, I shivered.

"Are you going to relax?" he asked me, bending down, speaking into my ear.

"I didn't know I wasn't," I said, still breathy and unsure.

"Lean back," he said.

I hadn't noticed that I was hunching over, away from the arm behind me. I slowly relaxed my shoulders and leaned back, feeling the hair on his arm on the back of my neck. I wanted him to curl it around me and pull me closer. I didn't even know his last name.

"See, not so bad," he added, chuckling as James threw the lever back and sent the wheel up in the air and our chair out of sight.

"So, tell me, Bella, is this a regular thing for you?" he asked. "Is this how you meet new people?"

"On a ferris wheel? No," I laughed, feeling nervous and awkward.

"Tilt-A-Whirl? Rollercoaster?"

"I don't…this is so weird. I don't usually…"

"Relax, I was just teasing you," he said, letting me off the hook. "I'll tell you a secret. I don't usually go on rides with the customers."

"No? Then why are you doing it now?"

His lips pursed, and I found myself watching them. Wanting them.

"You surprised me."

"I surprised you?"

"Talking to me when you did. I was pleasantly surprised," he explained cryptically.

"I saw you…walking through the fairgrounds."

I didn't know why I was telling him this. The words were just spilling from my lips.

"And what did you think when you saw me?"

"I thought you were beautiful," I replied.

"Well, it seems like we have something in common, then."

If my heart beat any harder, I was sure it would begin rocking the chair. He was so disarming and honest. I'd never met anyone like him.

"So, you brought snacks?" he asked, and I noticed that Alice had left my bag of cotton candy on the seat. "Is this your friend's?"

"No. It's mine. It's always been my favorite part of the fair. Would you like some?" I asked, opening up the bag. He laughed and shook his head and I realized what I had said. My face felt hot and I wasn't feeling quite as brave anymore.

"I'd love to try some," he laughed. Reaching in, he pulled out a small wisp of candy, but instead of eating it, he held it to my lips. I watched his eyes as they focused on my mouth. I watched his eyes as I leaned forward, reaching out for it with my tongue, grazing his fingers as I drew the candy into my mouth. By the time I leaned back, it had already melted on my tongue, leaving a sweet taste behind.

"Can I have a taste now?" he asked, his gaze steady and unwavering. But he didn't reach for the bag. He leaned over, always watching, and softly, almost imperceptibly, rubbed his lips against mine. My whole body shuddered and I know that I let out a harsh breath. Emboldened, he moved his hand along my back, drawing me closer, before pulling my bottom lip into his mouth, gliding his tongue along it before kissing me softly again.

"That's definitely the best way to eat cotton candy," he said, so close to my lips that I could feel the heat across them.

"I agree."

So I pulled some cotton candy from the bag like he had done for me. I held it up—an offering—and he opened his mouth and showed me his pink tongue. Then something inside me snapped, we were so high up, no one could see and I wanted so badly to taste it on him, too. So I launched myself at him, kissing his lips, pressing my tongue into his mouth. I had never been so forward. I had never felt this way, but he was sweet and warm and so much better than I ever thought he could be.

We were held back by the barrier from the chair, but Edward was able to snake his arms around me and pull my upper body up against his, squeezing and holding me, making me sigh and pant into his mouth.

"Mmmm, Bella. I don't think I'm going to want to let you go," he said, as the wheel began to move forward.

"You don't have to," I replied, pleading with him. "Kiss me."

"You're not worried about who'll see?"

"No. Kiss me," I said again, watching and waiting for his lips to touch mine. And when they did, once again, it was wild and fast and exhilarating. Kissing him was better than the most thrilling thrill ride. Kissing him was all I wanted.

When we stopped again at the top, his lips latched onto my neck and his hand traveled onto my shirt—cupping me, squeezing, making me want to cry out.

"Can we…go somewhere?" I panted. I was on fire. There was no way I could pretend I wasn't.

"I know a place," he said, his eyes smoldering. He pressed a soft kiss on my lips. I was so lost. I had hardly noticed that the ride wasn't moving.

"Are we stuck?" I asked, pulling back, breathing heavy. Edward looked over the railing, shouting down to James. I could tell that he was answering him, but I couldn't hear him at all.

"They're working on it," he replied. "Normally, this would bother me, but I can't seem to get very upset about it. I think I like being stuck with you, Bella."

I felt his hand settle on my thigh and move slowly up, grazing my skin with his fingertips.

"Is this okay? I want to touch you, Bella," he said, his eyes boring into me. "I really need to touch you."

I would have said yes if I could have spoken, but his candor was causing my brain to malfunction. I threw my head back, and he took that as an invitation to taste the skin on my neck and begin moving his fingers higher up my skirt. I was shaking and quivering, moaning and panting and he had barely touched me. If he ever needed an ego-boost, this was it.

"You feel so good," he said, breathing into my neck and along my shoulder. His fingers on my inner thigh felt amazing, but then he moved them just a little, grazing the edge of my underwear. I think I stopped breathing waiting for him to move, waiting for him to push his fingers under the rim and onto my skin. And when I felt him I gasped, unable to focus on anything other than the patterns they traced all over me.

I cried out when his fingers delved deeper, no longer teasing or testing. He knew exactly what to do and where to do it. He knew exactly what I needed and when. And as I shook and moaned and finally shattered, he held me against his body, whispering things no one had ever said to me before.

When I had regained my senses and was able to function, I kissed him again, noticing his tongue as it poked through his lips. I pulled back laughing uncontrollably, unable to catch my breath.

"Is this the way you always react when you come?" he asked, arching his brow.

"No, no. I'm not laughing at you," I replied, blushing. "Well, I am. It's just…your tongue is blue."

He looked at me like I was crazy and laughed, unaware that I had spent the better part of the evening talking about the boy in blue, not knowing that he was literally around the corner. Before I had a chance to explain, the wheel lurched forward and we were lowered to the ground.

"Sorry, man," James said, raising the bar on the chair. "You know how tricky this thing can be. It's hard to fix it when your uncle isn't around."

"He's back tomorrow," he replied. "Then you won't have to look at my ugly mug anymore."

"This is your last day?" I asked, confused by their conversation.

"No, I'm just filling in. Helping out my uncle." He stepped out of the car, and held out his hand to help me down.

"So, you don't work here?"

"I've been helping out since I was a kid, but I take classes now so I only fill in from time to time if they're in the area."

"So, you live around here?"

I was having a hard time wrapping my mind around the concept. I assumed he didn't live here. I assumed he traveled. It never occurred to me that he was local.

"I live in Port Angeles. Is that going to be a problem, Bella?" he asked, and I could tell what he was thinking. I could tell he was wondering if I was looking for someone who was about to move on. I wasn't looking for anyone, but him.

"No. That's just…perfect."

He smiled, shaking his head again—amused by something. I didn't care. He lived here and he wouldn't be leaving.

"I think after that, James, I'm officially off for the evening," he said. "I have a date."

He reached for my hand and led me down the ramp.

"Edward," James called after us. "You forgot your sweatshirt."

I saw a blur of fabric as James tossed it over to Edward and my mouth fell when I turned and watched Edward slip into a navy blue hoodie.

"Ready for some fireworks?" he asked.

"Absolutely," I replied, squeezing his hand in mine.

He led me through the crowd and I could feel the anticipation building. It hadn't been ten minutes since he last kissed me and it was already too long.

As we walked through the fairgrounds, he led the way, but would continually glance back at me, smiling with his whole face—smiling with his eyes. I was giddy and crazy and needed to just get to where we were going.

I realized that we were headed for the shore, just past the fairgrounds. The grassy terrain slowly turned to gravel, then finally to a pebbly sand. Small bonfires burned along the shore and couples on blankets curled up on the dunes.

"Bella!"

I turned toward the voice and saw Rosalie, standing with her arms wrapped around Emmett. Alice and Jasper were huddled by the fire behind them.

"He was flying back to me," she said, grinning from ear to ear. Her arms circled his waist and he bent his head down, kissing the top of her head.

"I missed you too much," he said.

"Should we sit?" Edward asked, motioning to the fire.

"Is that…are you sure?"

I wanted to be alone with him, but I also wanted so much sit with Edward by a warm fire with my friends. I introduced him to everyone as we took our seats on the sand. Edward leaned back on his hands and pulled my back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight.

"You're shivering. You should have a jacket."

"I'm not cold," I replied, shaking my head. He did this to me. He made my body hum. I felt his chest rise and fall. I relaxed into his arms, feeling so perfect and so right.

As the first set of lights exploded in the sky, I glanced around the fire at my friends. Alice and Jasper whispered softly to each other—wrapped up in their own world. I wondered if they were discussing wedding vows.

Emmett and Rosalie stood behind them, still embracing—still beaming—watching the fireworks with their true loves.

And I craned my neck behind me, glancing at Edward, marveling at his steely gray eyes, so deep and penetrating. I tugged on his blue sweatshirt and buried my head in his chest.

I'm sorry, Madame Zelda. Now I believe.

**Have a Happy and Safe 4th!**


End file.
